


Home at last

by crispierchip



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 20:00:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11607909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crispierchip/pseuds/crispierchip
Summary: This would be Tyson’s luck.Have sex with the guy you’ve been hopelessly drooling over for the past year only to wake up bonded to him. Perfect.





	Home at last

**Author's Note:**

> a while back i wrote a kinkfest for this pairing and now i wrote a tropefest, which is a pretty accurate description of this. choose your fighter i guess ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> that being said, this didn't turn out quite like i excepted it to, by which i mean, there is a lot less domesticity and a lot more angst that i had intended. i hope you like it nonetheless :))
> 
> a huge thank you goes out to everyone who was excited about this, i seriously don't think i'd have kept going without you. also to fin, who had to do so much capitalization that i frankly thought was embarrassing. 
> 
> title is from anglela by the lumineers.

Gabe is laughing, and Tyson is staring. Tyson’s mouth might be hanging open a little bit and he knows for a fact his hands are sweating around his drink, and it is, all in all, not his most dignified moment.

Next to him, Nate elbows him in the ribs.

“Dude,” Tyson says, rubbing at his side, because what the hell.

Nate just looks like he’s sad on Tyson’s behalf. “You gotta get it out of your system,” he says, shaking his head.

“Get what out?” Tyson asks, mostly distracted and still thinking about Gabe’s smile, how it lights up his stupid face and makes him look even more ridiculously attractive.

Nate rolls his eyes and sighs. “I can’t even - ” he huffs. “Your crush has grown three sizes, you need to do something,” he says.

Tyson is momentarily grateful for the shitty lighting for at least concealing his blush because Nate doesn’t need further ammunition to drag him like this. As it is, he doesn’t even bother tackling the crush bit, just chokes out, “It has not grown,” in the hopes of salvaging some of his dignity.

Nate gives him a look like he’s terribly disappointed in Tyson for lying. “Buddy,” he says. “It’s grown. Trust me.”

Tyson huffs. His face burns from being exposed like this so he downs the rest of his drink and moves down the table to where Gabe and Dutchy are swapping pictures of their dogs.

“Tys!” Dutchy says when he sees him. “Come see.”

Gabe shifts a little on the booth to make room for Tyson and there’s no way Tyson’s ass is going to fit in _that_ but Tyson sits down anyway, crowds up against Gabe half because he doesn’t want to fall down and half because Gabe smells really good, actually.

“Look at this, aren’t they cute?” Dutchy asks, then shoves his phone in Tyson’s face until Tyson assures him that his dog and Gabe’s are indeed very cute.

Dutchy sighs wistfully, looking at his phone. “Man, dogs are so great,” he says. He sounds pretty far gone, honestly, and the conversation deteriorates pretty hard from there, until Dutchy gets bored with him and Gabe and goes to show pictures of his dog to someone else.

It’s just Tyson and Gabe then, and Gabe won’t move his ass even though there’s plenty of space, so Tyson’s basically stuck breathing in his stupidly nice scent, all calm and confident. Gabe turns to him and smiles then, and, honestly, a punch to the face would have been more considerate.

“Are you gonna move or?” Tyson asks, when he finally gets it together enough to.

“Is your ass too big?” Gabe laughs. “Maybe you should lay off the dessert for a while there,” he says.

Tyson rolls his eyes, but mockery at least he can deal with. “Still not as big as your head, buddy,” he says, and shoves at Gabe with his big ass until he moves over.

Gabe laughs at him but goes easily enough, and then he sits back and rests his arm over the back of the booth. Tyson wants really badly to lean into it, but he’s not drunk enough to justify it, and, anyway, he’s pretty sure he’d never hear the end of it from Nate if he tried it.

He sits up straight instead and joins in on teasing Rants over his latest cooking failure that ended up setting the alarm off in his kitchen. Rants blushes but takes it dutifully, cutting guys off to defend himself loudly, and pretty soon Tyson has downed the rest of his drink and is getting up for a refill.

Gabe gets up after him and follows Tyson to the bar, demanding Tyson buy him a drink. He’s looking at Tyson a little intensely, but Tyson doesn’t think much of it, just rolls his eyes and asks him what he’s having, then relays it to the bartender. He leans over the bar to wait for the drinks and feels Gabe press up behind him, lightly, his chest to Tyson’s back, and Tyson swears, his breath cuts out for a moment.

Tyson is pretty sure Gabe feels it, because they’re too close together for him not to, but he doesn’t move back. If anything, he presses even closer, and Tyson can feel his warmth, now, seeping through their clothes, his breath on the back of Tyson’s neck.

Tyson shivers, hands shaking a little where he reaches out to grab their drinks from the bartender. He tries to turn around only to knock into Gabe, who hasn’t moved back at all. Tyson almost dumps half their drinks on them, only saved when Gabe reaches to grab his elbow, steady him.

“Careful,” Gabe says. His hand is still on Tyson’s elbow.

“You careful,” Tyson mumbles. He’s feeling a little flustered, truth be told, and Gabe’s fingers pressing into his skin aren’t helping. He looks up at Gabe and finds him smirking, and it’s not quite mean but not quite not, and Tyson knows how to deal with this, he does.

Except, all he can think about is Nate, Nate telling him that he needs to get it out of his system, and Tyson has drunk enough right now that it doesn’t seem like Gabe would be completely unreceptive of the gesture.

Tyson looks up at Gabe and the words get stuck in his throat. He’s been stuck in this middle ground for so long now that he doesn’t even know how to get out of it. But he looks at Gabe, and he thinks that this is his chance, now, to be done with it. Worst case scenario, Gabe lets him down, and Gabe won’t even be the first.

Tyson leans in a little, close to Gabe’s ear, and Gabe gets it, leans down to meet him halfway, head tilted to the side. “You smell really good,” Tyson tells him then, heart pounding in his ears, hands sweaty with it.

Gabe pulls back to frown at him, and Tyson is just about ready to die of embarrassment, which says a lot, considering how much embarrassment he survives on a daily basis. He counts the seconds, reaches to five and considers taking it back, but Gabe seems to get it then. His eyes darken and trail down to Tyson’s lips, and his hand twitches at Tyson’s elbow.

“Yeah?” he murmurs, and - jesus, he moves even closer, crowds Tyson up against the bar and presses against him.

Tyson’s breathing hard, and his hands are sweating so bad that he’s pretty the drinks are going to be slipping out of them soon. He figures, this is it, this his chance. “So good,” he says.

Gabe smiles down at him and takes the drinks from his hand, sets them down on the bar behind Tyson. “Wanna get out of here?” he asks, voice low, and dark, and if Tyson had less self-control around Gabe his eyes would be fluttering right about now.

As it is, he holds it together and follows Gabe back to the table so they can say goodbye to the guys and grab their coats. Tyson very diligently does not meet Nate’s eyes, even though he can feel his gaze on him, and instead mumbles his most loudest goodbye and heads for the exit.

Tyson ends up driving, although he and Gabe argue for the longest time over the fastest way to get to Gabe’s place. In the end Tyson relents and listens to Gabe’s instructions, because it’s his house, after all, though Gabe doesn’t the least bit appeased by that. He taps his foot impatiently on the way there and fiddles with the radio until Tyson laughs and tells him to quit it.

“Fine,” Gabe says. “But drive faster,” he goes on, and that’s when Tyson realizes it, that Gabe might want this too. Maybe not as much as Tyson - Tyson doesn’t think that is entirely possible - but enough.

It still takes them a while to get there, and by that time Tyson is half convinced Gabe is going to back out, but Gabe just waits until the door is shut behind them before pressing Tyson against it. He leans down to push his nose into Tyson’s neck and Tyson lets out a sharp breath, his toes curling in his shoes.

“Jesus,” he says. His knees feel weak, and he’s glad Gabe is there to hold him against the door; he thinks he’d have trouble standing otherwise.

Gabe rubs his nose across the collar of Tyson’s shirt, then makes a noise when the shirt gets in his way, and, god, it’s like every bad alpha stereotype Tyson’s ever heard and Tyson loves every single second of it.

“Wait, wait, just - ” Tyson pushes Gabe back until he can get to the buttons of his shirt, his tie, undo them both and drop them on the floor. “There,” he says, and Gabe smiles.

“Good thinking,” he says, leans down to press kisses along Tyson’s shoulders, and Tyson wraps his arms around Gabe’s back, lets his head fall back against the door.

“Jesus, you even smell like it,” Gabe is murmuring, lips pressed to Tyson’s neck. “How’s that even possible?”

“Smell like what?” Tyson asks. His breath is already coming short, and if he dies against this door, then so be it.

“Candy,” Gabe just says. Tyson’s heard this before, but there’s wonder in Gabe’s voice now that makes Tyson smile.

He threads his fingers in Gabe’s hair and pulls him back, leans up until their lips touch. It’s a little dry but Tyson doesn’t even care, just presses up against Gabe and kisses him, bossy and a little demanding until Gabe is panting, eyes hazy with it.

“Wow,” Gabe says. He looks flushed, and his fingers are pressing hard into Tyson’s hipbones. His smell changes gradually into something different, deeper, and Tyson feels dizzy with it. Gabe leans down to kiss him, though, so Tyson can at least pull it together for that.

They make it up the stairs, at some point, tumble into Gabe’s bed still clothed. Tyson hands go to Gabe’s shirt, start to take it off him, but the buttons are some weird, uncooperative monstrosity, so he ends up just slapping at Gabe’s chest.

“Jesus what even is this, just take it off,” he mumbles, and pushes at Gabe until he complies. Tyson has to stare then, at Gabe’s abs and his chest and at the mere fact that he’s in bed with Gabe, because who even would have thought. Nate, probably, would have thought; Tyson can’t wait to tell him about this.

The thought makes him laugh, which in turn makes Gabe frown at him, and then down at his chest. He looks a little hurt, honestly, so Tyson makes sure to show him exactly how much he appreciates his body. He pushes Gabe back and moves between his legs, leans down to press their lips together. Gabe goes easily, and Tyson reaches for his belt, then his pants, pulls away so Gabe can kick them off.

“You too,” Gabe tells him.

Tyson goes to take the rest of his clothes off but two seconds later Gabe’s hands are there, so Tyson lets him. Gabe leans in and kisses down his chest as he undoes Tyson’s pants, and it’s so good, Tyson’s half dead on the inside already.

He’s panting, by the time Gabe has his clothes off, and then he chokes on his breath when Gabe presses him into the mattress.

“Okay?” Gabe asks, and Tyson nods too many times.

They move against each other, slow and kissing throughout the whole thing until they’re both breathing hard, straining against each other. Gabe kisses his way down Tyson’s chest, his stomach, and Tyson sucks in a breath. Gabe kisses his hipbones, pulls down his boxers, and Tyson can’t look away.

“Jesus,” he says. “You look so good.”

Gabe looks up at him from the space he's made for himself between Tyson’s legs and smiles, confident like he usually is, and Tyson lets his head fall back, finally. He screws his eyes shut when he feels Gabe take him into his mouth, and then his hands go to Gabe’s hair, move through it until he’s got something to hold on to.

He can smell Gabe’s scent in the air, thick and heady, and he thinks Gabe likes this. He smells like it, at least, and Tyson gets off that. He opens his eyes and looks down, and Gabe is such a sight. He makes Tyson’s mouth water, makes his fingers tighten in Gabe’s hair. Gabe swallows around him, then, and Tyson pulls, too hard. He goes to apologize and Gabe pulls off, shakes his head.

“I like it, go ahead,” he says, and Tyson could scream, right about now. He’s trying to look cool for Gabe though, which is the story of his life, so he lays back and pulls at Gabe’s hair instead, fucks into his mouth gently and then more harshly, once Gabe assures him that he likes that too, until he comes, body shaking with it.

Gabe makes his way up Tyson’s body, presses himself against Tyson’s thigh, and Tyson reaches down to wrap a hand around him, start stroking him off. He catches Gabe’s lips with his own and feels him breathe hard and harder still, until he pulls back and buries his face in Tyson’s neck, rubbing his nose all over Tyson’s skin.

Tyson jerks him off until Gabe starts shaking and then he tightens his hand and moves it a little faster, and pretty soon Gabe’s coming against him, coating his hand and Tyson’s thigh. He melts against Tyson’s after, and his throat is at Tyson’s nose, and Tyson has held off for all this time but he can’t now; he leans in and presses his nose there, breathes in and out, deep breaths that leave him feeling drained.

They stay like that for the longest time, just scenting each other, until Tyson starts to feel crushed under Gabe’s weight and also his hand gets really sticky and he asks Gabe to move. Gabe doesn’t, so Tyson just wipes his hand on Gabe’s side, which makes Gabe whine into his neck. It’s a pretty funny sound, and Tyson would laugh if it weren’t for Gabe’s weight pushing all the air out of him.

“Honestly, Gabe, do you want me to die on this bed?” he asks. “Because I will.”

Gabe seems to take that seriously and rolls of him, sprawling out on his side. Tyson turns towards him and Gabe’s eyes are half shut, and he looks about ready to fall asleep, but he reaches out to grab Tyson’s arm and pulls him closer. Their heads are on the same pillow, like this, their noses almost touching, and all Tyson can smell is _Gabe Gabe Gabe_.

Tyson thinks about getting up and leaving, now; that would probably make tomorrow easier, but instead he burrows closer and nudges his leg between Gabe’s, lets Gabe wrap his arm around him. They end up falling asleep like that, and screw easy, if this is what hard feels like.

+

Tyson wakes up the next morning, and his head feels too full; there’s a ringing in his ears, and his mind is sluggish, like he’s still asleep. He shakes his head, blinks, but it still feels like he’s two steps behind the play, and he’s too warm.

He looks to the side and there is Gabe, curled up under the covers, hair peaking out and face pressed into the pillow and Tyson is overcome with such fondness, suddenly, with a warmth that fills his whole chest.

Tyson thinks about leaning down to kiss him, his cheek maybe, or getting back under the covers to curl himself around Gabe, and it’s a sappy though that Tyson is almost disappointed in himself - almost but not quite, because he doesn’t think he can be fully blamed; this is Gabe after all.

Tyson is still contemplating his next move when Gabe’s eyes fly open, and then a few things happen in quick succession. First, Tyson’s head stops feeling quite so dull, and then Gabe pushes the covers off himself and Tyson stops feeling quite so warm, and he and Gabe looks at each other and Tyson’s mind is screaming at him, trying to keep up.

Gabe’s eyes grow wide, and Tyson can _feel_ the beginnings of his freak out, can feel how Gabe’s holding it together just barely. Tyson tries to take a breath, and his chest feels so tight, and then Gabe’s touching his own chest, rubbing at his breastbone, and this _would_ be Tyson’s luck.

Have sex with the guy you’ve been hopelessly drooling over for the past year only to wake up bonded to him. Perfect.

+

Tyson calls Nate in a panic. He doesn’t think he can be blamed.

“Tys?” Nate says, groggy because it’s not even seven in the morning, and Tyson says, “Dude,” with this terrified edge to his voice that makes his own chest tight.

“Did you get traded?” Nate asks, significantly more alert now.

“What?” Tyson blurts out, more than a little frantic. “What the fuck, no,” he says. “Why would you say that?”

There’s some rustling on Nate’s end, and then he says. “It’s 6:53 and we’re on the phone, that’s why.”

Tyson can’t even deal with this right now. “Dude, no,” he says. He looks around Gabe’s bathroom and he feels trapped, like the walls are closing in on him. He can feel Gabe in his head, a measure of panic that matches his own. “Oh god,” he mumbles, and pushes his face in his free hand. His eyes pinch.

“Tys, what’s happening?” Nate is asking, a muffled sound in Tyson’s ear. “You’re freaking me out, dude,” he says, and he’s definitely not asleep now.

“I - sorry. It’s - ” Tyson takes a breath. His head _aches_. He can feel Gabe outside the door, hovering, and he can feel his concern, too, but mostly what he gets is frantic noise. “Gabe and I bonded,” Tyson says now, and it feels like a weight both lifts and settles on his chest, like his ribs try to expand and close in on him.

Nate is quiet for a long moment. “Dude,” he says after, and Tyson thinks that about sums it up.

“I know,” he says. His voice is wet and he clears his throat because he refuses to cry on top of everything else.

“Fuck,” Nate says, eloquent. “What are you gonna do? Can you break it?”

Tyson blows out a breath. “I - I don’t - ”

He’s cut off by a knock on the door, Gabe’s voice on the other side. “Tyson?” he’s asking, and Tyson can feel how close he is, just a wall separating them, can feel it in the way his headache eases. God, this is so fucked up.

“Yeah, I - ” He stops to think about what to say for a moment, and realizes he’s got nothing. “Nate, I have to go. I’ll call you as soon as…”  he trails off, because he doesn’t even know as soon as what. “I’ll call you,” he finishes weakly.

“Yeah, just. Whatever you need, let me now,” Ntae says, and Tyson barely registers it.

He gets up and walks over to the door, takes a breath before twisting the lock. He and Gabe are so close like this, and Tyson’s head hurts almost not at all. He opens the door.

“We need to talk,” Gabe says. He looks pale, rubbing at his chest, and his eyes are too wide.

 _No shit_ , Tyson thinks and doesn’t say out loud.

+

It takes them a while to make it downstairs. The feedback loop takes up most of the space in Tyson’s head, and he can’t imagine it’s any different for Gabe, except for maybe it could be, just because of the sheer size of Gabe’s head.

Tyson laughs at his own joke a little, just a huffed thing under his breath, and Gabe turns to give him a look from where he’s sipping his coffee, idling petting Zoey where she’s sitting by his feet. Tyson sobers, because this is such a bad time to be laughing, he can’t even believe himself.

“Sorry,” he says, looking away. He can feel the vague repetition of the word in his head, as Gabe takes it in, and jesus, Tyson doesn’t even know how people can live like this.

“It’s -  jeez, it’s like an echo,” Gabe says, and pushes his face in his hands.

Tyson lets out a breath. He looks at Gabe and feels so guilty, this heavy weight on his chest, because he’s pretty sure, if he didn't like Gabe as much as he does, this wouldn't have happened. God, he was such an idiot.

“Sorry,” he says again, and he means it differently now, hopes Gabe can feel his guilt, his regret, because he never meant to rope Gabe into this.

Gabe gives him a funny look but he doesn't say anything. They sit in quiet for a while, even though it doesn’t feel like it. Mostly it feels like an endless array of noise inside Tyson’s head, a bitter taste on his tongue that’s not entirely the coffee, and sharp thoughts running through his mind, and it figures, that Gabe would be regretting this.

Tyson lets his head hang between his shoulders, lets himself take a few deep breaths because it’s one thing to know Gabe doesn’t want this and another thing to feel it. Tyson thinks about all the different ways this could have gone, if only it wasn't for his stupid lack of self control, and feels overwhelmingly sad.

“Tyson,” Gabe says, and it sounds like he’s been repeating his name for a while.

“Sorry - what?” He swallows, fights with himself to meet Gabe’s eyes. He doesn’t quite manage it, too scared of what he may find there, so he fixes his gaze on the cupboards behind Gabe and figures that will have to do.

“I said - I said I was sorry about last night,” Gabe says, “I shouldn’t have - I just shouldn't,” he goes on, and Tyson can feel how much he means it, and his heart breaks in his chest, he swears.

“Yeah, that - it would have been for the best,” Tyson struggles to get the words out but it’s worth it for the way Gabe’s shoulders drop, like he’s relieved to have Tyson agree with him.

“How did this happen? Gabe asks, and it’s not accusatory, not in the least, but Tyson can’t help but stand a little straighter.

“I’m on bond suppressants, this isn’t supposed to happen,” he says, and the words are a little sharp, sharper than he’d meant.

“I didn’t mean - I know it’s not - ” Gabe tries, huffing when he can’t put the right words together. “I didn’t mean to imply this was your fault,” he says, and that helps, at least, knowing that Gabe doesn’t think Tyson did this on purpose.

“Okay,” he says. Then, because he can feel how heavy Gabe’s chest feels, adds, “It wasn't your fault either.”

Gabe laughs a little dryly, mostly without humor. He doesn’t sound like he believes Tyson. “What now?” he asks, quiet.

Tyson takes a breath. “We need to break the bond,” he says, can hear the feedback of the words as Gabe hears them, feel something heavy settle in Gabe’s stomach.

“We can’t,” he says, and he sounds pained to have to admit so.

“What are you talking about?” Tyson asks. His voice is a little squeaky. He tries to clear his head but all he can think about is Gabe finding out how Tyson feels about him, how the chances of that happening keep going up the more they stay bonded.

“You can’t break a bond this soon,” Gabe explains. “It needs time to settle first.” Gabe sounds like he’s talking from experience, and Tyson can’t deal with this.

“Oh my god,” he says. He buries his face in his hands and half hopes that once he looks up again the bond will have dissolved itself.

“We need to tell the team,” Gabe goes on, softer now, and Tyson can feel how much Gabe doesn’t want to do just that.

“No, we don’t,” Tyson says very maturely. Things are already a little rough from the arbitration, he doesn't want to imagine what they’d turn into when Sakic finds out Tyson accidently bonded with the captain.

Gabe sighs. “We can’t play like this,” he says, and it feels like his nerves are pulled a little taut.

Tyson can’t blame him; Gabe’s right. Most of Tyson’s mind is preoccupied with Gabe’s thoughts, and Tyson thinks it’s the same for Gabe. He thinks about bringing all of that onto the ice and feels dizzy.

“Okay,” he says. He lifts his head, finally, and looks at Gabe, and Gabe looks so tired already. “We should - agents, too,” Tyson goes on, trying to be an active contributor in finding a solution to this.

“Yeah.” Gabe nods.

They look at each other for a moment, both still a little frantic, and then Gabe says, “Okay, we should - I have to take Zoey out for a walk, and then we can call him.” he waits for Tyson’s nod, and then gets up, Zoey trailing behind him.

Tyson can hear Gabe puttering around in the hallway, but he figures he and Zoey are almost gone, so he lets himself sit down at the table and just - not think for a while. It’s harder than it should be, but it makes sense; there’s two people in Tyson’s head now, taking up space, and Tyson could barely handle one before.

He hears a _good girl_ half in his head and half from down the hall, and sighs, rests his head against the marble tabletop. The front door closes after a while, and Tyson's fine for the first two minutes until he’s overcome with a piercing headache, harsh enough to make his eyes water.

He pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers and hisses, and then suddenly the feeling goes away and he’s fine again. He hears the front door open again, and that was quick, he thinks.

Gabe walks into the kitchen with his eyes wide and his face a little flushed, like he maybe ran here. “Did you feel that?” he asks, and there’s a panicked edge to his voice that Tyson understands fully.

Tyson - it can’t be. Probably, not, at least, but Tyson looks at Gabe and thinks it might have been that. “You felt it too?” he asks, and his voice matches Gabe’s.

Gabe nods. He’s thinking so hard, Tyson can tell, and it hurts, vaguely.

“Okay, you gotta stop that,” Tyson says quietly.

Gabe shakes his head. “Sorry,” he says. Tyson can tell he’s trying to tone it down but mostly he can feel how scared Gabe is, and he doesn’t like that. It makes his own fear double, then triple, and it’s just a vicious cycle of feedback with no end in sight.

“Okay,” Tyson says, knocking them both out of it. “We’re going together, and then we’re coming back and we’re calling Joe, and until then we’re both not allowed to freak out over it,” he goes on. He’s not really used to taking charge like this, but Gabe looks so off guard, he looks terrified, and this is the least Tyson can do.

“Okay,” Gabe says. He nods, and Tyson nods, too. He goes upstairs and gets dressed in yesterday’s clothes which is just sad, and then he joins Gabe and Zoey out on their walk.

Gabe’s mind is quieter now, but still louder than Tyson’s used to. It gets better though, the longer they stay out, and pretty soon Tyson wishes they could stay at the dog park for pretty much the rest of the day.

It’s pretty chilly though, and Zoey must be getting cold too, and Gabe and Tyson are adults, they can’t keep avoiding this problem forever. Probably, anyway.

They don’t talk about it beforehand, but Tyson’s the one who calls and Gabe the one who ends up doing most of the talking, which is probably for the best. Joe is kind of disappointed, Tyson thinks, but mostly confused. “What does - what does accidentally mean?” he asks cautiously, and Tyson wishes he had an answer for him.

Gabe, thankfully, is more prepared for that question than Tyson. “It’d be better if we explained face to face?” he says, a little uncertain. He’s worried, Tyson thinks, and Tyson is too, but he wishes, now, that he could reach out and comfort Gabe, somehow.

Tyson maybe thinks the thought too loudly because Gabe turns to give him a funny look, like he doesn't quite get him. Tyson shakes himself out of it and turns back to the phone call.

“Yeah, face to face sounds like our best option,” Joe is saying, and he sounds calm; collected. Tyson hysterically wonders if this has ever happened to him before or something. He thinks about asking, but he’d like his participation in this phone call to remain minimal.

They arrange to meet in an hour, and after Joe hangs up Gabe moves to the other room to call his agent. It’s not particularly far, but Tyson feels the strange piercing against his temples anyway, and has to close his eyes against it.

Two seconds later Gabe reappears, and he’s looking a little pale, like this is finally catching up to him. “You want to - like come with?” he asks lamely, and Tyson ends up standing outside while Gabe makes the call. He can only make out a faint hum through the door, and he doesn’t try to reach for more, it’s none of his business.

They switch spots when it’s Tyson’s turns to call, and his agent isn’t nearly as chill about the bond as Joe. He in fact hisses in Tyson’s ear something about how could this have happened by accident and what was he thinking. Honestly, Tyson doesn’t what to tell him on the former, and he’d prefer to not have to explain his stupid crush to his agent when it comes to the latter, so he keeps his mouth shut and lets Don sigh disapprovingly in his ear.

Don doesn’t have anything insightful to say, except to call him for the meeting and congratulations, which brings Tyson up short. He doesn’t even sound like he’s joking, he’s just honest about it, and maybe Don missed the accidentally part when Tyson brought it up or something.

+

The smell in the car is stifling. All Tyson can smell is Gabe, and it’s different from last night but not by much, and Tyson realizes that it’s because of the bond. He wonders how he didn’t notice it sooner. It’s not bad, per se, except for how it reminds Tyson of everything that he can’t have, and in that sense it’s terrible. It gets so rough that he has to open the window at some point, even though it’s November in Denver and that kind of thing is ill advised.

Joe is already there, when Gabe and Tyson make it to the conference room, and so are Bednar and Jean, and Dr. Parker, and Tyson is dreading this so hard. He sees Joe’s nostrils flare as soon as he and Gabe step into the room, and he supposes that answers whether or not they smell different to other people too.

“So you’re definitely bonded then,” Joe says, once Tyson and Gabe have taken their seats, Tyson first and Gabe next to him.

“We - yeah,” Gabe says, awkward.

Joe presses his lips together and nods.

Tyson lets Gabe take all the questions - because as much as Tyson hates to admit it, he’s still a little frayed from the arbitration - and blushes his way through Gabe explaining how they slept together last night and woke up bonded. It sounds even more ridiculous out loud, and Tyson has to fight the urge to bury his face in his hands; he can be mature about this.

“You did the right thing telling us,” Joe says, once Gabe is done explaining.

“Absolutely,” Jean fills in. “It’s good to stay ahead of a story like this. You definitely smell bonded, there is no way of hiding this, so I’d suggest a statement requesting first and foremost the respect of your privacy and explaining the nature of your - ” he’s saying, and Tyson’s head is spinning, because that sounds suspiciously permanent.

Gabe, like he can feel Tyson’s concern - which, he probably can - says, “We were thinking something more along the lines of breaking the bond.”

“I wouldn't recommend that,” Dr. Parker says now, and Tyson feels a weight, heavy as lead, settle in his stomach. “It’s extremely detriment to one’s health to break a bond before it has had time to settle.”

“How long does a bond usually take? To settle?” Gabe asks, and Tyson finds himself holding his breath, nails digging into his thighs.

Dr. Parker frowns like he doesn’t like what he’s about to tell them. “I’d say safely, six months,” he says.

“Six months?” Tyson lets out, louder than he’d meant, and is immediately ashamed of his outburst when everyone in the room turns to look at him.

“To break a bond safely, yes,” Dr. Parker confirms.

There is a pause, and then Gabe asks, quietly, “How about not safely?” Tyson can feel his apprehension, and he can’t blame Gabe for thinking about this, but his heart can still break over it.

“I really wouldn't recommend that.” Dr. Parker shakes his head. “It - the side effects of that alone, they’d be draining. You wouldn't be able to play through them.”

“What kind of side effects?” Tyson finds himself asking, because Gabe wants this, Tyson can tell as much in his regret and his guilt, and Tyson has screwed up bad enough already.

“Headaches,” Dr. Parker says. He takes a breath and goes on, seemingly listing them off. “Bond withdrawal, irregular cycling, vomiting, depression - ”

“Okay, we - we get it,” Gabe cuts him off. He looks pale again, maybe a little sick, and Tyson feels it inside him, the rippling of Gabe’s stomach. He doesn't stop himself this time, reaches out a settles a hand on Gabe’s shoulder, and it’s like they’re the only two people in the room now, just Tyson and Gabe and Tyson’s hand on Gabe’s shoulder.

What’s worse is that Tyson can feel the effect a simple touch has on Gabe, how he instantly relaxes and the sickness subsides. He figures that’s the bond, but when Gabe turns to look at him, Tyson can’t take his eyes off him.

It’s the eerie silence that follows that snaps them both out of it. Gabe clears his throat and Tyson lets his hand drop, face burning with it.

“How far from each other can you get before you can feel it?” Dr. Parker asks. He’s got a thoughtful look on his face, like maybe he finds this interesting.

“Maybe different rooms,” Gabe admits.

Dr. Parker nods. “I don’t think you can play tomorrow then,” he says. Tyson lets out a breath, stomach dropping. He expected this much, but it’s different to hear the definitive tone in Dr. Parker’s voice.

“How long until they can get back in the lineup?” Bednar asks, matter of fact.

“I’d advise consulting a bond specialist but no sooner than two weeks,” Dr. Parker says.

Tyson just barely holds on to another outburst and it’s only because the calm that Gabe keeps radiating. Tyson wonders if he’s doing it on purpose, for Tyson’s benefit.

“Okay,” Tyson forces himself to say. “Where’s the bond specialist?”

+

The specialist is in downtown Denver, and she is able to squeeze them in for later that day. The sign on her door reads _Dr. Elena Davis, MD_ , and Tyson takes a breath before ringing the bell. The waiting room doesn’t smell much of anything, which means that Tyson is stuck with Gabe’s scent again, clinging to his nose and the inside of his throat.

At least they don't have to wait for too long, Tyson thinks resignedly, when Dr. Davis comes to get them. She shakes both their hands and leads them to her office, gestures at the two chairs across from her desk.

“Thank you for seeing us in such short notice,” Gabe says.

“It was no problem.” Dr. Davis smiles. “I’m just happy to help,” she says.

“Dr. Parker has already informed me of your situation,” Dr. Davis goes on. She links her fingers together and rests her hands on her desk, leaning in. “He said you woke up bonded?”

“Yes,” Gabe says. He smiles, a little wryly, and Tyson can feel how tired he is through the bond. He thinks of everything Gabe’s taken on so far, and takes the next question for him, even though it makes him blush to his very ears.

“And were you intimate the night before?”

“Uhm, yes,” Tyson says, before Gabe can answer. “But we didn’t - we didn’t knot or anything, just...” Tyson trails off, unsure of how much detail he should go into.

Dr. Davis nods. “That matters very little, I’m afraid,” she says. “It’s a common misconception that in order for a bond to take there must be a form of intercourse involved, but that’s rarely the case.”

Tyson doesn’t know if that makes their situation better or worse or neither of those. He blows out a breath.

“However, Dr. Parker told me you have difficulty being too far from each other,” Dr. Davis says. She sounds thoughtful this time.

“More like it hurts.” Tyson huffs. “I was in the kitchen, and he left to walk the dog and I couldn't even see straight,” he says truthfully.

Dr. Davis pushes her glasses further up her nose. “And was it the same for both of you?” she asks.

“Yeah, it’s - I almost fell over,” Gabe says. He’s quiet, and Tyson can feel him thinking, like a whirring sound in the back of his head. He wants to reach out again, thinks he should, but he doesn’t know Dr. Davis and he doesn’t want her to see that.

Dr. Davis makes a humming sound. “That’s not so unusual,” she says. “It happens when the bond is particularly unsteady or strong. Has either of you bonded before?”

Tyson opens his mouth to say no, but Gabe answers before he can. “I have,” he says, and the bottom drops out from Tyson’s stomach.

“What?” he can’t help asking, and he feels a little cheated, that he hadn’t learned this about Gabe sooner.

Gabe ducks his head guiltily. “It was a long time ago,” he says, and Gabe is twenty four years old, what does that even mean.

Tyson is about to ask that when Dr. Davis gently cuts him off. “In any case,” she says. “That would explain the unsteadiness.”

Tyson thinks that should probably be a relief, to know something concrete about their bond, but instead he just feels - kind of oddly betrayed. “When can the bond be broken?” he asks instead, and feels a flash of something through the bond, pushes it back and decides not to think about it.

Dr. Davis nods. “Yes, Dr. Parker mentioned that’s the course you wanted to take. I’d say six months but I’d like to consult with you again at that time period to see how the bond has evolved,” she says.

Tyson feels his stomach sink, and he’s not sure if that’s him of Gabe or both. He decides it doesn't much matter. Their hands are tied for the next six months, and Tyson better learn to live with Gabe’s regret until then.

+

Tyson doesn’t mean to, but he ends up not talking to Gabe much over the rest of the day. He’s not mad, exactly, maybe a little hurt. He thinks a bond is a pretty important part of someone’s life, a part they’d share with a friend, but then again, Tyson’s never bonded so what does he know.

He and Gabe still can’t be more than ten feet apart from each other without bending over in pain though, so they stick close, and maybe the silent treatment is more annoying than Tyson thought because Gabe breaks eventually.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t tell anyone,” he says. It sounds like the words are hard to say, and Gabe doesn’t feel too great through the bond.

Tyson sighs, suddenly realizing that he’s really not as upset as he thought, and he doesn’t want to hear about this if it means making Gabe feel bad. “You don’t have to tell me,” he says, and he means it, tries to show that through the bond, as new as it is.

“No, it’s - I do,” Gabe argues. “I should have told you sooner.”

Tyson snaps his mouth shut then and listens.

“I’ve bonded twice,” Gabe says. “Well, three times now.”

And three bonds, that’s a lot. That’s more than what a lot of people get throughout their life and Gabe is only twenty four.

“I’m just - the doctor I went to said I was just bond-happy, you know,” Gabe says. He laughs a little, kind of self-deprecating, and Tyson does reach out now. He puts his hand on Gabe’s shoulder, squeezes a little around the muscle there and just - leaves his hand there.

“So, when you said this wasn’t my fault, I mean, it kind of was,” Gabe finishes, and Tyson can’t - he doesn’t believe that. And he can’t let Gabe believe it either, let him take on all of that guilt.

“It wasn’t,” he says. He has to clear his throat because his voice comes out so rough. “Who - who were the other two?”

Gabe sighs. “Jeff. But it kind of - fizzled out after he left for the Canes,” he says. “Then Ryan, at the awards, but nothing was ever going to happen with that.”

“You had to break it?” Tyson asks quietly.

Gabe nods. He just feels sad, through the bond, and Tyson hates that. He squeezes his shoulder again, then says, “It took two of us to bond this time,” and he’s decisive about it, doesn’t leave Gabe with any room for doubt.

Gabe turns to looks him, eyes downturned and lips curved into a smile. “Thanks,” he says. He means it, too, Tyson can tell as much through the bond, but even if he couldn’t, even if they hadn’t bonded, he can hear it in Gabe’s voice.

+

They take Zoey out to the park, after that profound heart-to-heart, but it’s kind of cold outside, so they can’t stay for long, although Zoey looks like she might want to. The three of them veg out in front of the TV once they get back, watching the food network because Gabe let Tyson choose and Tyson loves food.

Tyson hasn’t checked his phone since that morning, but he does now only to find about a dozen texts from Nate, asking about Gabe and what happened, and then, when Tyson didn’t respond, asking if everything was okay, and for Tyson to please text back because he’s worried and on the verge of coming over.

Tyson types quickly, giving Nate a recap of everything that’s happened so far, but leaving out Gabe’s bonds.

 _dude that sucks_ , he gets back, a few seconds later. _you sure you can’t break it?_

 _Absolutely_ , Tyson texts back.

Nate sends back a bunch of sad faces, and, honestly, Tyson can relate.

They text back and forth for a few minutes, until Gabe’s stomach makes a noise, or maybe it was Tyson’s - it’s hard to tell through the bond. Anyway the point is, Gabe is hungry and Tyson is always up to eat so they order some takeout and eat it in front of the TV.

They don’t talk much. The bond feels heavy and Gabe does too and Tyson doesn’t want to bother him. They go to bed early, too early, but Tyson is yawning and Gabe isn’t much better. Tyson thinks it’s partly the mental exhaustion from the bond but doesn’t look at it too closely. Gabe sets him up in the guest room and hovers by the doorway until he makes sure Tyson has everything, then retreats into his own room.

There’s only two walls between them, and Tyson is exhausted, but he still spends roughly half an hour tossing and turning in thinly veiled annoyance. The space between Gabe and him is getting to him, and Gabe’s detergent on Tyson’s sheets is getting to him, and Tyson is just so tired.

Gabe starts pushing something at him, eventually, and it’s hard for Tyson to understand what exactly but it has him feeling calmer, somehow, the same way he had back at the conference room. Tyson wonders how Gabe does it, for a minute, until he’s too tired for even that and falls asleep, thoughts of Gabe still in his mind.

+

The next morning, Tyson wakes up and the bond is still there. He can tell because his head aches, like he spent all night stretching for something not quite within his reach. He can feel Gabe's brain working, too, in the back of his mind, spinning frantically in a way that’s making it impossible for Tyson to ignore.

He sits up with a groan because he slept for ten hours but it feels more like two, throws on a shirt that Gabe thoughtfully left for him last night and tries not to think too hard about how it smells of Gabe and his scent.

“Hey,” Gabe says, when Tyson makes it downstairs. He looks terrible, probably terrible in the same way that Tyson is feeling. It’s a relief, in a sense, to see that Gabe doesn’t always look like a swedish supermodel stereotype, but then Tyson remembers why that is and he mostly feels bad all over again. “Didn’t sleep well?” he asks, and Tyson doesn’t even bother lying.

“Not at all,” he groans and plants himself into one of the chairs. “You?”

Gabe shakes his head.

“We were barely a room apart, how did this even happen?” Tyson sighs. He lets his head drop onto the table in true self deprecation and makes a sad noise.

Tyson’s ears have been faintly ringing since he woke up, so he doesn’t hear what Gabe is doing until there’s a cup of coffee on the table next to his head. Then there’s Gabe’s hand on the back of his neck, squeezing, and Tyson feels the tension instantly drain out of him. He closes his eyes and takes a breath and hopes Gabe doesn’t take his hand away.

Gabe has to, of course, but it doesn’t happen for a while. When he finally moves, he does it slowly, like this pains him as much as it pains Tyson.

“Jean called before you woke up,” Gabe says, in the silence that follows.

Tyson sits up because the way Gabe says it, it doesn’t sound good. “Oh?” he prompts.

“He wanted us to come in today, figure out some contingency plans,” Gabe explains.

Tyson groans and lets his head rest on the table again, because that definitely doesn’t sound good.

+

In the end, it’s both better and worse than Tyson thought. Better because it only takes them roughly twenty minutes, and worse, because Jean’s main contingency plan seems to be, “Fake it till the media thinks you’re making it.”

Tyson nods at that, and then catches himself because what even. “What?” he asks, and his voice is vaguely squeaky but he doesn't think he can be blamed.

Jean presses his lips together. “It would just look immature,” he says. “To say the bond was an accident. It would just be easier for everyone to say it’s real.”

Tyson doesn’t know whom exactly it would be easier for, because it’s sure as hell not him and Gabe. “Here’s a wild idea,” he starts, “How about we, say, don’t do that?”

Jean sighs. “Tyson,” he says.

“Can I just - I don’t think that’s going to work,” Tyson tries furtively, because part of him still refuses to believe Jean is serious right now.

“It’s our best option, right now. It would look bad for the captain to accidentally bond with a teammate, an omega teammate at that,” he says, and ah, there it is.

Tyson feels the fight go out of him, suddenly, even though he should be used to it by now, hearing that kind of stuff. Gabe, quiet so far, stiffens next to him, and he brings their chairs closer together, their shoulders almost touching.

He must be quiet for too long though, because Jean is quick to patch things up. “I didn’t - I don’t mean that - ”

“No, it’s all good,” Tyson says, to save them both the discomfort. “What do we have to do?”

+

A press conference, is the answer. A joint statement, read by Gabe, clarifying their position with the team; emphasizing their priorities. It’s not much, really, except for it all makes Tyson kind of want to be sick.

Gabe must be able to tell, because he keeps the windows down on the way to the rink, doesn’t even put music on. “Thank you for doing this,” he says.

Tyson turns to look at him, a little confused. He and Gabe got into this together, and Tyson tells Gabe as much, only to get a half-hearted shrug in response. Tyson doesn’t know what else to say though, to make Gabe believe him, so he just doesn’t say anything. He keeps looking out the window, and his face is freezing, and his hair is probably getting messed up, but he’s willing to suffer through it if it means not smelling himself all over Gabe.

“We need to tell the team, too,” Gabe says, when they’re nearing the rink.

Tyson is not really ready for this, but he looks at the clutch of Gabe’s fingers around the steering wheel, and he doesn’t think Gabe is either. “I’ll do it,” Tyson says. “Let me do it.”

Everyone is already in the locker room getting dressed by the time Gabe and Tyson make it there, and the two of them are welcomed with varying degrees of grumbles about being late and what happened to Tyson’s hair.

Tyson laughs nervously and looks around the room, trying to see if anyone will notice. Picks is sitting closest to them, and Tyson’s eyes land on him, how he takes a breath and does a double take, looking confusedly between Tyson and Gabe. Tyson figures he has a limited amount of time before other guys start noticing too, and he better jump the gun.

“So, uhm,” he starts, and he sounds distinctly awkward to his own ears, but Gabe took most of the heat yesterday, Tyson doesn’t want to leave him to the wolves today.

“Gabe and I - we sort of wanted to make an announcement,” he goes on. The words are kind of jumbled together, the way he gets sometimes when he’s nervous, and, jesus, this is the stallion video all over again.

From across the room, Nate’s eyes narrow, then widen humorously. He looks a lot like he wants to face plant into his palm. Tyson sympathises.

“So, we - uh,” Tyson pauses to take a breath. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his coat and shuffles his weight between his feet. “Well, we kinda bonded? So, there’s that,” he says. He hears Gabe snort from next to him, and when he turns to see, Gabe’s head is lowered, a smile tugging at the edges of his lips.

“I mean, it was an accident,” Tyson fills in, just so these guys don’t get any ideas. “Like, a total accident, just happened.” The guys laugh nervously, like they’re not sure if he’s completely serious, and Tyson isn’t sure either, at this point.

“It’s only temporary, just until the bond settles and we can break it, but this doesn’t change anything, obviously,” Gabe says, and his voice is - it’s very firm. It makes Tyson shiver, kind of, and that’s enough said about that.

“Right,” Tyson says eloquently. “We just smell a little different now.” He shrugs, and this is so awkward Tyson is just about ready to die with it.

Next to him, Gabe nods. He lets the guys know about the press conference so they don’t get ambushed later, and that’s that. Coach comes in to call everyone for skate soon after, but not before Nate can drag Tyson into one of the equipment rooms and say, in possibly the least threatening voice of all time, “Dude, what the fuck?”

“I know, I know,” Tyson starts saying quickly. “Stupid, I know.” Gabe’s in the locker room still, answering any questions, and there’s a pull against Tyson’s chest. It’s the same as last night but maybe not as strong, and at least that’s a good sign, Tyson thinks.

“How did you even manage to get into this?” Nate is asking now, and he has no idea how much Tyson wishes he knew. Tyson tells Nate as much and Nate sighs.

“You’ve been crushing after him for months,” Nate reasons, and his voice isn’t particularly loud but it gets Tyson’s hackles up anyway.

“Shhhh,” he hisses, and feels his face grow red with it.

Nate frowns and then his eyes grow wide and he clamps a hand over his mouth. “Can he read your thoughts?” he whispers conspiratorially, and this is possibly the stupidest conversation he and Nate have ever had. And that’s saying something.

“No, dude, what the fuck,” Tyson hisses. “I’d be so screwed if he could,” he says.

Nate nods like that makes sense. “True,” he reasons. His face softens, then, and he looks at Tyson with very open eyes. “Are you gonna be okay?”

Tyson huffs. “What do you mean?”

Nate rolls his eyes. “You like him, Tyson. Like, _like_ like him,” he says. “You gonna be okay with pretending you’re in a relationship?”

Tyson deflates. He takes a deep breath and lets his guard down, a little, possibly since he and Gabe woke up bonded. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I mean, it doesn’t really matter.” he shrugs. “I made my bed, now I get to lie in it.”

Nate purses his lips like this doesn’t sit well with him.

“Seriously,” Tyson tells him. “I’ll be fine. How bad can it be?” he asks, which, to be fair, should have clued him in.

+

Tyson calls his parents, before the press conference, because he figures they should hear it from him rather than the internet. He starts with, “So, Gabe and I bonded,” biting the bullet, but his mom cuts him off before he can go on and explain everything.

“Tyson, I didn’t even know you were dating,” she says, and she sounds vaguely scandalized.

“We weren’t mom, jesus,” Tyson says. “It was an accident,” he goes on.

His mom is quiet for a long moment, and it’s almost like Tyson can feel her disappointment through the phone. “I know, I know,” he hurries to say. “Stupid.”

“Tyson.” his mom sighs. “Are you sure it was an accident?” she asks gently.

“What? Yes!” Tyson lets out, “Why would you - it was an accident.”

“Okay,” his mom says, quick, placating. “I was just asking,” she says, and Tyson lets out a breath. Gabe is in the other room talking to his own parents, and Tyson’s head hurts with the distance, but he’s glad Gabe isn’t hear to listen to this.

It’s his dad after that, asking Tyson, “What about the plan?”, which was to bond after hockey, but that pretty much went out the window.

“We’re breaking it,” Tyson assures him.

“Are you sure?” his dad asks, which, honestly, why will no one believe him.

“Yes!” Tyson says, louder than he meant. “It was an accident, of course we’re breaking it.”

That seems to do it for his dad, and he lets it go.

Tyson feels exhausted after they hang up, and he can’t wait until Gabe is done so they can be closer again and his head can finally stop hurting. Gabe seems to be about the same. His eyes are pinched, by the time he makes it to the kitchen, and he comes to join Tyson where he’s leaning against the counter.

Tyson gives them both of moment to collect themselves before asking, “How did it go?” because he knows this is fake, but he can’t help wanting to know what Gabe’s parents think of the bond.

Gabe doesn’t give him much. He shrugs and says, “They - it went okay.” it sounds like there’s more to the story, but Tyson gives the same answer when Gabe asks, so it’d be at least hypocritical of him to push for more. And Tyson doesn't need to tack hypocrisy onto everything else that’s happening right now.

+

At the press conference, Gabe reads a statement and Tyson sits there feeling too hot in his suit and trying to look like he’s not actively dying on the inside, and it all goes swell, basically. They don’t take any questions, which is a small blessing considering their entire current situation.

As soon as they leave the room, Tyson takes his suit jacket off and downs three bottles of water. He’s still too warm and Gabe frowns at him but doesn’t say anything. They spend the rest of skate mingling around the guys, never too far from each other. It’s almost an unconscious response, now, to stick close together, half to avoid the headaches but also because it just feels better than being far.

Tyson is sweaty, by the time they make it back to Gabe’s, and he heads for the shower straight away. It doesn’t help much, but at least he stops sweating for a while. Gabe asks him if he’s okay after he comes out and Tyson shrugs. He’s as okay as he can be, considering everything.

“What do you want for lunch?” he asks instead, changing the subject.

Gabe frowns, unconvinced. Tyson can feel his thinking, feel him settle on something. “You know I meant what I said, right?” he says.

Tyson laughs nervously. “You gotta be little more specific than that,” he says. He walks over to the couch and sinks down next to Gabe with Zoey on Gabe’s other side. They’re close like this, and Tyson can feel the difference instantly, how the closeness soothes his thoughts and fills his chest.

“Back at the locker room,” Gabe explains. “When I said that nothing had to change, I meant it.”

Tyson thinks that’s nice of him, but also really, really naive. “Gabe,” he says, letting out a breath.

Next to Tyson, Gabe shrugs. “I mean, it’s gonna take some getting used to, but I think we’ll be fine,” he says. Then, “It’s just six months,” and Tyson feels a mix of overwhelming sadness coupled with relief at the reminder of the expiration date.

It’s just six months and a lie, Tyson thinks.

+

Tyson is too warm in the press box, too, and it’s all he can think about. He can’t even focus on the game, and all he can feel is Gabe next to him, and all he can smell is Gabe next to him. It’s terrible, all in all, and he has to loosen his tie after the first period, then grab something to air himself with after the second.

“Are you alright?” Gabe asks him, a soft whisper next to Tyson’s ear, and Tyson shudders all over, he swears.

“Yeah, I'm great,” he manages, which sounds about as convincing as one might imagine. “It’s just a little warm in here, don’t you think?” he adds, because he can’t be the only one feeling this.

Gabe looks around, and then leans in, a little, and his nostrils flare, his eyes widen. He flinches away from Tyson and Tyson’s honestly a little hurt. “Tys,” he says, and he sounds strained. Tyson’s hearts starts beating everywhere, all of a sudden, in his chest and his mouth and behind his eyes.

Gabe’s eyes grow heavy lidded and he’s looking at Tyson like - he’s looking at Tyson like he had back at the bar, like he wants him. Tyson sucks in a breath, can’t help it, and he can smell it on Gabe, too, something too thick to be simple want but too light to be arousal.

He stays staring, for a while, until Gabe snaps out of it. “Let’s go get something to eat,” he says. It’s low, almost growly, and Tyson’s hair stands on end. His breath starts coming faster, and it's disconcerting, where he’d follow Gabe to now.

As it is, Tyson settles for the hallway, where Gabe shoves his hands in his pockets and avoids Tyson’s eyes. “I think - your heat may be coming,” he says, and Tyson’s face burns so hard. He looks around frantically, but there’s no one else in the hallway, of course there isn’t.

Finally, when his mind clicks into gear, he figures to say, “But - it’s not scheduled until the end of the month.”

Gabe shrugs. He looks at Tyson now. His eyes are wide and dark and his nostrils flared, and Tyson wants to climb him, honestly. “I don’t know,” he says. “I can just - I can smell it on you.”

Tyson thinks about, tries to piece everything together, and it fits; the dehydration and the sweating and the slick between his legs and how he kind of wants to have his way with Gabe - that is, more so than usual.

“Fuck,” he says. “Jeez, how could I miss it, god, I’m such an idiot.” He puts his hand on his face partly because he doesn’t want to look at Gabe but mostly because he doesn’t want Gabe looking at him.

“It could happen to anyone,” Gabe reasons.

“It doesn't happen to me,” Tyson argues. “It’s - ” he wants to say, it’s tough enough being an omega in the NHL without getting unplanned heats involved, but the words get stuck in his throat. “It just doesn’t happen,” he says instead.

Gabe gives him a sympathetic look. He puts his hand around Tyson’s bicep and Tyson feels it like a brand through his suit. “Maybe we should head home?”

“You can stay,” Tyson says quickly.

Gabe snorts. “We can barely stand to be in separate rooms. I’m coming with you,” he says, the same voice he has used back in the locker room, as if Tyson wasn’t turned on enough.

Gabe sneaks back into the room to grab their coats and Tyson waits for him in the hallway, trying not to beat himself up too hard. Gabe said it could happen to anyone, except Tyson didn’t get where he is being an omega with unplanned heats. His heats are planned to a T, and this one should be no exception.

Tyson sighs and pushes himself off the wall. Gabe comes out a few seconds later, and he hands Tyson his coat. His hand lingers on it for a moment, and their eyes meet, and this really is a bad time.

Gabe eventually seems to come out of it. He looks away and they walk to the parking lot and Gabe’s car. The smell is so much worse tonight, has Tyson - it has him getting wet, and it’s so embarrassing. Tyson hasn’t been like this during heat for the longest time, since he was a teenager probably, and now Gabe’s gonna take one sniff at him and be able to tell that Tyson’s leaking all over for him.

Gabe chooses that moment to roll down both windows, just to the midway point, and Tyson’s face burns so hard. He swallows and squeezes his legs together like that's gonna help any. It doesn’t, just makes Tyson more aware of everything that’s happening, and he rests his forehead against the side of the car, feels the cold air hitting him in the face.

“So, I was thinking,” Gabe starts when they’re stopped at a red light. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and looks at the road and Tyson looks out his half open window. “I could - if you wanted, of course - I could help out,” he says.

“Help out,” Tyson repeats dumbly.

“Yeah, just - we’re bonded now, it wouldn’t be too weird,” Gabe reasons, which -

“Help with what?”

The light turns green and Gabe huffs out a breath. “Your heat,” he explains.

“Oh,” Tyson says, before he can help himself. “You sure you want that?” he asks, and he swears, he doesn’t mean to sound so self-deprecating, it just happens, as it usually does around Gabe.

Gabe rolls his eyes. “I mean, it wouldn't be _such_ a hardship,” he says.

Tyson, against his better judgement, blushes at the backhanded compliment and proceeds to fumble around for something clever to say, such as, “Shut up,” which - he doesn’t even sound like he means it, oh god.

Gabe laughs at him like he can tell, and it’s a relief, that they can still laugh about this; laugh with each other, too.

“Anyway,” Gabe says. “What do you say?”

Tyson sobers. He tries to think about it, and it’s images flashing through his mind, of Gabe holding him down, kissing him; scenting him all over like he had the other night. Of Tyson smelling like Gabe for the next few days, even more so than he does now.

Of the two of them knotting, and of how Gabe would feel inside him. Probably pretty great, Tyson thinks, and shivers, feeling his face grow warm. He glances to the side and Gabe is smiling, a little, just the corner of his mouth, and Tyson thinks Gabe can tell that he wants this.

“You don’t think it’s gonna make things - ” he cuts himself off, searching for the right word. “Worse?” he settles on, because that sums it up pretty well.

“I mean, we’re already bonded,” Gabe reasons. “And we’ve already had sex.”

Gabe has a point, but they both know heat is different than sex. It’s more intimate, for one, to trust someone when you’re out of your mind with need; to let them see you like that.

“Have you ever - done that before?” Tyson finds himself asking, quiet and awkward, because he’s not sure he wants to know.

“I’m a fast learner,” is what Gabe answers, which soothes Tyson’s nerves, somehow.

“I haven’t,” Tyson says honestly. It’s not a very dignified admission to make at twenty five, but he thinks, if he were in Gabe’s shoes, he’d like to know this beforehand.

Gabe turns to glance at him then, and it’s not for very long, but he looks kind of confused. “Really?” he asks. Then, “That must be tough.” He sounds serious, and Tyson shifts in his seat, uncomfortable.

He doesn’t say anything, which prompts Gabe to fill up the silence. “We’d both be on even footing then,” he says quietly, and Tyson smiles.

“I guess so.” Tyson nods. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea,” he says, which is a lie. It’s the exact opposite of a good idea and Tyson can see it from a mile away but the idea of it is too appealing to say no to.

“So, you’ll just let me know when it hits, and I’ll…” Gabe trails off.

“Tomorrow, probably,” Tyson says, because he can feel that much, now. “I think it’d be better - I’ll be pretty out of it, maybe we should…” Tyson clears his throat. “Sleep together tonight,” he suggests finally.

“Absolutely,” Gabe is quick to agree. “Whatever you think is best,” he says, and it probably shouldn’t make Tyson feel warm inside - even more so - but it does.

+

Tyson wakes up, and it feels like he’s burning up. He’s soaked everywhere, his shirt and his shorts, and his skin feels warm, and he feels so empty. He’s hard, too, although that feels secondary, right now, when he’s aching to be filled. He takes in a breath and it’s all Gabe, and Tyson moans a little shamelessly, a lot wanton.

Next to him, Gabe shifts, and then his eyes fly open, and it’s like a parody of the morning they woke up bonded. Tyson can feel Gabe everywhere, feel how the haziness from sleep gradually dissipates to give way to something else, something heady and thick.

“Tyson,” he says, and then he’s leaning in, kissing him, dry lips catching against Tyson’s, and Tyson just lets it happen. He presses up against Gabe, trying to get closer, and clothes have never felt so annoying before in his life. He pulls away and rips his shirt off, waits for Gabe to do the same before diving back in, hands clutching at Gabe’s shoulders, pushing and pulling until Gabe’s covered Tyson’s body with his own, is pressing him into the mattress.

“Good?” Gabe murmurs against Tyson’s lips, and Tyson makes a sound in return because words are just slightly out of reach. Gabe smiles like that’s enough for him, though, and keeps kissing Tyson, rough and demanding, until Tyson’s panting into his mouth, hips pressing up into Gabe’s.

“What do you want?” Gabe asks, and it’s so - how can he even ask that.

Tyson spreads his legs and presses up into him, and he’s so hard, he’s aching with it, and this is just not enough. He takes a breath, breathing in Gabe’s scent, and that helps, but Tyson’s skin is itching, and he’s making a mess of the sheets, he can just tell.

“Please,” he just says, and even that, it feels like it takes so much out of him. He’s breathing heavily, and he’s leaking everywhere, and Gabe just won’t touch him.

“I got you, I got you,” Gabe is murmuring, and then there’s a hand around Tyson’s dick, which works for about ten seconds before Tyson realizes that’s not what he wants at all.

“Gabe, please,” he gets out, and the words are so thick, shaky. Tyson presses into Gabe’s hand and arches away from it alternatively, and he’s so wet.

“I got you,” Gabe keeps going. “Just let me take care of you,” he says, and Tyson’s stomach is trying to curl into itself, half pleased and half horrified he’s hearing things.

“Let me take care of you,” Gabe says again, and, god, Tyson is literally not going to survive this, he just knows it. Gabe keeps jerking him off, hard and fast, until Tyson has no choice other than to push into it, and then he’s coming, all over his shorts and his stomach and Gabe’s hand.

“You’re good, you’re okay,” Gabe is saying, which is laughable, because Tyson is barely holding it together. Then Gabe goes and pushes his face into Tyson’s neck, and Tyson can feel his tongue on his skin, and his nose, and he realizes Gabe is scenting him, making sure Tyson smells like him, and the last thread of self control Tyson had just breaks.

“Please, please, please,” he’s saying. “Just - just fuck me, Gabe, please,” he goes on, and it’s so embarrassing but he just can’t help it, he wants it so bad.

“Yeah? You want it?” Gabe doesn’t even sound smug, just awed, and Tyson nods, too many times, eyes screwed shut.

“Please,” Tyson whispers. He spreads his legs farther and his hips twinge with it, but he doesn’t - he just wants it so bad right now.

“Okay, okay, just give me a sec,” Gabe says. He kisses Tyson’s neck and pulls away and Tyson logically knows he isn't going anywhere but he makes a sound anyway, something high and embarrassing.

He isn’t expecting Gabe to laugh or anything but he’s still surprised when Gabe just kisses him, soft and so disproportionate to the situation.

“I just…” Gabe trails off, his fingers on Tyson’s shorts, peeling them off his body. “Jesus, you’re so - ” he cuts himself off. Tyson gets a wave of fondness through the bond, and he opens his eyes now, can’t help it, but Gabe’s just looking at him, lips parted and eyes dark, like he thinks this is hot.

Tyson moans, planting on of his feet on the mattress and bending his knee, baring himself to Gabe, and then Gabe’s hands are on his thighs, pushing them apart where there’s no more apart to get, and Tyson’s face burns. He wants to look away but at the same time he can’t take his eyes off of Gabe, off of Gabe looking at him.

“You look so good,” Gabe says, eyes raking over Tyson’s body. Tyson can feel how much Gabe means it too, through the bond. Tyson grows shameless with it, can’t help it, and he arches his back, presses his ass back into Gabe, because the orgasm stove the need off, a little bit, but he still wants this too badly to articulate it.

“Gabe,” he - Tyson whines, and it would be embarrassing, too, if it didn’t just make Gabe’s eyes grow even darker.

“Yeah,” Gabe says. “Yeah, you - ” His fingers trail up Tyson’s thigh, light, and Tyson shudders, his leg twitching with it. Gabe keeps going until his fingers reach Tyson’s hole, and then he pushes his fingers over the slick there, rubs them wetly over his rim.

Tyson throws his head back and moans, clenching around nothing, and then Gabe’s pushing in, and it’s just one finger, but it’s better than nothing. “Oh god,” Tyson lets out, legs shaking with how far apart he’s holding them.

“Yeah,” Gabe says. It doesn’t sound like a question, more like he’s impressed, and then there’s two fingers pushing at Tyson’s hole, and Tyson is still so empty.

“You take it so easily,” Gabe murmurs. It should be humiliating, and it is, a little, but mostly it sounds like Gabe’s loving this so Tyson doesn’t think too hard on it. He pushes into it instead, and, when Gabe tries three fingers, moans to let him know he’s doing good.

“Gabe, please,” he says again, when he’s hard again, dick leaking just as bad as his hole.

“Okay.” Gabe nods. He pulls his fingers out and Tyson whines, can’t help it, and then he’s messing with something, a condom, Tyson thinks, and then his dick is on Tyson’s hole, and everything is just so wet.

“Please,” Tyson says again, and maybe that’s what does it for Gabe because he starts pushing in, and Tyson can hardly breathe, he’s so relieved. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he’s saying, and it’s absurd, to be thanking Gabe for this, but Tyson literally could not care less right now.

It feels so good, it feels _too_ good, Gabe inside Tyson and Gabe’s pleasure through the bond. It’s so overwhelming that Tyson struggles to breathe, his chest tight with it.

“Jesus, Tys,” Gabe murmurs. He leans over Tyson and kisses him and Tyson can feel Gabe’s hips against his ass and pushes back, trying to take as much of Gabe as there is. There isn’t any more, but Tyson still tries, then turns his neck to the side when Gabe moves to kiss him there too, his jaw and his throat and everywhere in between.

They’re so close, like this, and Tyson can feel Gabe everywhere, feel his ribs and his chest as it expands and he breathes and this is either the best of the worst decision Tyson’s ever made. He doesn’t think too hard about it right now, just wraps his arms around Gabe and pulls him closer, buries his face in Gabe’s neck and rubs his nose over the skin there, a little hesitant at first but more confident once Gabe doesn’t try to stop him.

“Yeah, come on,” Gabe’s telling him, and then he pulls back, and Tyson gets about a second of feeling empty before Gabe pushes back in. He lets out a breath, sharp, and curls his legs around Gabe’s hips. His knee is probably pressing into Gabe’s side, and Gabe can hardly move like this, but Gabe doesn’t stop him and like hell Tyson is going to stop himself, so they just stay like that, moving in increments, and it sates the emptiness inside Tyson until it doesn’t, and he has to tell Gabe to go harder.

Gabe does, his teeth grazing Tyson’s neck and his hips setting a punishing rhythm, and Tyson has to struggle to breathe, everything is just so much. He’s getting close, he can tell, and he thinks about pushing a hand between them to get himself off but the thought isn’t even fully formed before he's coming, in stripes across his own and Gabe’s stomachs.

He feels it then, Gabe’s knot catching on his rim, and his mouth falls open, his nails pressing indents into Gabe’s shoulder blades, probably too harsh.

“Gabe,” he just says, and Gabe gets that too, fucks him a little harder and a little faster until his knot grows and then he stays inside Tyson. Tyson lets his legs fall and feels Gabe’s knot growing even more inside him, and there’s that moment of panic he always gets, like, _what if it doesn’t fit_.

Gabe is there, though, like he feels it in Tyson’s mind, which - he probably did. “You’re good, you got it,” he murmurs into Tyson’s ear, gentle, and Tyson squeezes his eyes shut just to block some of that out.

Gabe’s knot is still growing, and Tyson is pretty sure he won’t be able to take much more than this, but then Gabe’s curling his hand under Tyson’s knee, pushing up toward his chest, and that’s better. Tyson feels a little more open, like this, a little closer to Gabe, and he stops pressing his nails quite so hard into Gabe’s skin. Holds his breath, instead as he waits for Gabe’s knot to fully form, and lets it go all in a rush when it’s done.

“There you go,” Gabe says. He kisses the shell of Tyson’s ear and moves his hips, just a little, and Tyson’s eyes cross, his dick twitching between his legs. “You’re so good for me,” Gabe goes on, and the phrasing is different this time; it gets to Tyson a ridiculous amount, not that Tyson is going to dwell on that right now.

As it is, he drinks it in and smiles, a little, turns his face into Gabe’s neck. He tries to relax, but it’s not working, and pretty soon, he’s rocking his hips again, grinding up against Gabe’s stomach. He clenches down on Gabe’s knot and Gabe chokes on his breath, teeth grazing Tyson’s neck. They never did mating bites, and Tyson finds himself kind of wanting that now, but he can’t ask that from Gabe, can’t ask it from himself either, not when this is fake and temporary.

Instead, Tyson pushes down on Gabe’s knot again and works his dick against his stomach and then it’s Gabe’s fingers around him, stroking him off. Gabe’s mouth on him, kissing and sucking lightly, and Gabe’s hips holding Tyson’s legs apart, and that thought alone is enough to get him off.

Gabe chokes on another breath when Tyson comes, and his fingers tighten around Tyson’s knee, and Tyson thinks he might come again, from the way his dick pulses inside him.

Gabe’s knot goes down, eventually, and Gabe pulls away to strip off the condom and grab a new one. Tyson is on his hands and knees this time, and Gabe has one hand on his hip and the other gripping his shoulder, pulling him back. Tyson’s pushes into it, and his face burns so hard with embarrassment, but Gabe keeps murmuring encouragement and that gets Tyson where he needs to be.

It takes less time now, for Gabe to knot him, and then he lets his weight drop on Tyson, pressing him into the bed, and it’s kind of a lot but Tyson likes it. He can’t take very deep breaths but he doesn’t have to, and Gabe’s lips on the the back of his neck more than make up for it.

The third time, they’re on their sides, and Tyson is exhausted. He can’t imagine it’s much better for Gabe but he can’t even - it doesn’t even feel like Tyson’s done. He lets out a long breath when Gabe pushes in, and reaches behind him to find Gabe’s hip and hold him in place. It’s slow, this time, even though Tyson feels like he’s burning up from the inside, but he feels like he needs this too.

+

Tyson wakes up warm. It’s dark out, and he feels sticky, covered in sweat, but there’s a bottle of water on the nightstand and he downs it whole. He turns to the side and there’s no one there, but he can hear Gabe’s voice carrying through the condo. It’s soft, and Tyson wonders who Gabe is talking to; maybe Zoey.

The first thing Tyson does is take a shower. He smells very distinctively of Gabe, and part of him doesn’t want to wash that off, the lingering heat part, but most of him thinks he’s disgusting, and that part edges the other one out.

Gabe is laid out on the couch when Tyson makes it downstairs, Zoey with her head in his lap and his fingers in her fur. Tyson stands at the stairwell looking at them for a moment, and then Gabe notices him and Tyson looks away.

“Hey,” he says. “Sorry, I had to take Zoey out on a walk.”

Tyson shrugs. “Don’t worry about it,” he says easily. Gabe did more than his fair share last night. Tyson imagines going through that heat alone and it probably would have been a lot worse.

“I called Dr. Parker to let him know,” Gabe goes on. “He said we can skip going to the rink today, and tomorrow, if you need that.”

“Thanks,” Tyson says. “That’s good, I’m pretty exhausted.”

“Is it usually - this intense?” Gabe asks, and his voice is a little quiet, kind of awkward.

Tyson feels his face heat and looks away. “I mean, not really. I think this is the worst it’s been in a while,” he says.

“Because of the bond?” Gabe asks.

“Maybe.” Tyson shrugs. He can’t be sure.

Gabe is silent for a moment, and then he says, “Sorry.”

Tyson powers through his embarrassment then and turns towards him but Gabe is looking at Zoey.  “For…” he prompts.

Gabe snorts. “It’s pretty obvious,” he says, and Tyson heart pounds in his chest. “I mean, you wouldn’t be in this position if it wasn’t for me.” He sounds kind of sad, and he feels it too, where he and Tyson are connected, and Tyson simply refuses to have that.

“Hey.” Tyson waits until he’s got Gabe’s attention before continuing. “This wasn’t one-sided,” he says, and it’s - he doesn’t realize it until the words are out, how truthful they are. They work for him, too, soothe his guilt somewhat and quiet the voice in his head that calls him greedy.

Gabe smiles now, and he doesn’t really look too cheerful but Tyson will take it. “Thanks, buddy,” he says.

“Also,” Tyson goes on, despite how much he does not want to talk about this. “That would have been a lot tougher without you,” he admits, and the words alone make him flush, make his palms sweat.

Gabe’s smile gentles impossibly then, and Tyson really wants to gouge his eyes out right about now, what even.

“Anyway,” he says. “Sorry for being.” He moves his hand in the air, trying to encompass everything that’s happened in the past two days.

Gabe frowns at him, and Tyson can tell even without the bond that he’s confused. “I have no idea what you’re talking about because you were absolutely great,” he says.

Tyson goes red all over, he can just tell. He laughs nervously, tries not to sound like he’s actively dying on the inside. “Cool,” he says lamely. “You were pretty good yourself,” he manages to admit, and his voice only shakes like a leaf, it’s not big deal.

“The offer’s on the table, whenever you need it,” Gabe says.

Tyson flushes, and his life will be in a better place when he’s able to somewhat hold it together around Gabe. “Thanks,” he manages. Then, “Same goes for you, you know.”

“Oh,” Gabe says. Tyson can feel the surprise going off in his head like tiny fireworks, and he thinks he probably should have said this sooner. “That’s - ”

“If you want, of course,” Tyson fills in. “Like, no pressure.”

Gabe huffs. “No, I want to, just - ” he says. “I get kind of - intense, during rut.”

Tyson shrugs because no matter how intense Gabe gets he doesn’t think it can be worse than the ridiculous words that tumble out of Tyson’s mouth during heat. “I think I’ll manage,” he says.

“Thanks, then,” Gabe says. He unmutes the TV and hands the remote over to Tyson, and Tyson switches over to Netflix and settles on one of the movies under the Comedies section.

They order food a little while later, Tyson probably eats too much of it, but he feels exhausted. He orders dessert too, chocolate lava cake, and watches Gabe watch him eat it with a smile, like he wants to make fun of Tyson but also kind of can’t.

Gabe and he aren’t particularly close on the couch, but Tyson can smell him, smell his own scent on Gabe, faintly, and it’s killing him. He’s still got the remnants of heat pulsing through him, and Gabe’s scent is working for him, and it gets more and more difficult to pay attention to the movie.

Tyson manages but just barely, has to step away to the kitchen once the movie ends. He says that he’s going to get some water but in reality he opens the freezer and stands there for a moment, trying to get a grip.

It’s a futile effort, when it comes to Gabe.

+

Tyson thinks the heat has some sort of effect on the bond, because after it ends, it doesn’t hurt as much to be away from each other. Once Gabe’s able to take Zoey out on his own without either of gritting their teeth in pain, Tyson starts thinking about moving out from Gabe’s guest room.

Tyson lets Gabe know a couple of days later, as they’re getting ready to head to the rink for a game against the Kings. Gabe turns to give him a funny look from where he’s fishing for his keys in the bowl by the door, and then he presses his lips together.

“Tyson,” he says, and he doesn’t sound too willing. “We’re - we’re supposed to be in a relationship,” he says, pained, and then Tyson gets it.

He opens his mouth to argue, because he doesn’t think there’s anyone in Denver willing to follow the two of them home to see where they live, but. Gabe has a point. After that press conference they can’t - they’re in this, now, no matter how fake it is.

“You’re right.” Tyson swallows. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he says, and it sounds a little sad, even to his own ears.

“I’m sorry,” Gabe says, and that sounds even more sad, oh god. “I know this isn't what you wanted,” he goes on, and Tyson just barely holds his tongue, because Gabe doesn’t even _know_ what Tyson wants.

“It’s not like you wanted it,” Tyson says, and he doesn’t mean to grit his teeth through it but his jaw’s got other plans.

Gabe looks at him, then looks at his watch. He lets it drop there and says instead, “We gotta head out if we don’t want to be late,” and Tyson never much liked confrontation anyway.

Still, when they’re in Gabe’s car, windows half rolled down, he blurts out, “I have a yard.”

“What?” Gabe asks, laughing a little.

“For Zoey,” Tyson explains. “I have yard and she might like that,” he says. He gets a wave of impossible warmth through the bond, strong enough to make him stop breathing for a moment, and then it’s gone, leaving Tyson reeling.

Gabe nods, Tyson can see from the corner of his eyes. “So you want us to move in with you,” he says, and it’s not really a question. “Okay,” Gabe says easily, and the conversation thankfully ends there.

+

They enlist the team’s help with the move, and Tyson manages to successfully bribe a handful of guys to carry boxes using dinner. Gabe doesn’t have too much stuff, just his computer and a frankly ridiculous amount of clothes that Tyson doesn’t hesitate to make fun of him for.

“Maybe if you has any sense of style you would realize why I need all these,” Gabe counters, from where he’s carefully folding a pair of jeans into a box, and, honestly, they’re jeans, they don't need folding.

Tyson huffs. “Style doesn’t mean - ” he checks the contents of the box, figures there have to be at least a dozen pairs of jeans in there. “ - a different pair of jeans for every day of the week,” he finishes lamely.

Gabe rolls his eyes and folds yet another pair of jeans into the box. Tyson can feel his amusement through the bond, and he has to hide a smile.

“Seriously, Gabe, these won’t fit in the guest bedroom closet,” Tyson says instead.

“They’ll fit fine,” Gabe tells him, unconcerned.

By the time he’s done Tyson feels exhausted just having watched him, and he begs off carrying any boxes under the pretense that it’s his house they’re heading to and so he’s the boss. Nate takes that with a grain of salt, openly laughing in Tyson’s face as he says it, but he doesn’t hand off his box to Tyson so Tyson is ready to count it as a win.

They have two cars, so it only takes one drive to get all the boxes from Gabe’s house to Tyson’s, though not for lack of trying on Gabe’s part.

“Who even needs all this stuff?” Dutchy mumbles at some point. He’s carrying his second box up the stairs while Tyson’s in the kitchen, ordering dinner.

“He says it’s because he's got style,” he pauses to say, and Dutchy huffs.

They sit down to eat after everything’s stored away, take turns playing Mario Kart after. At some point, during Tyson’s turn, Gabe heads off for the kitchen, Nate following close behind him, and Tyson crashes his car looking after the two of them. He thinks about getting up and following them, because Nate’s been eyeing Gabe warily all day, but Rants pushes into Tyson’s side and goads him into another round instead, probably because Tyson’s such an easy opponent.

Tyson tries to focus on the bond instead, see if he can get anything through that instead, but it’s just carefully empty, like Gabe doesn’t want Tyson messing around in there right then, so Tyson lets it go, tries to concentrate on the game instead. He loses again, albeit in a more dignified fashion, and Rants takes the remote from his hands and announces that he’s not even a challenge anymore.

Nate and Gabe come back, a couple of minutes later, Gabe’s face red and Nate’s set oddly seriously. Tyson just barely holds his tongue and doesn’t ask, if only because he and Gabe are not alone. He shelves it for later, instead, and by the time they guys leave, he's made up his mind.

Gabe helps Tyson clean up, carrying all the dirty dishes into the kitchen while Tyson rinses them and puts them in the dishwasher. “This - it was a nice thought, you know,” he says, as he brings  Tyson a handful of glasses.

“Well, I do have moments of brilliance from time to time,” Tyson tells him.

Gabe puts the glasses on the counter and laughs. “You do, surprisingly,” he says, and Tyson smacks him in the shoulder with a towel.

They work in unison for a few more minutes, and then Tyson decides to bite the bullet and just ask already. “You and Nate,” he says. “Everything okay?”

Gabe’s half of the bond turns blank again, which is more of a tell than Tyson could hope to get. “Yeah, everything’s good,” Gabe says, and he doesn’t even sound convincing.

Tyson thinks about pushing; that’s one of his problems, pushing too hard sometimes, but it’s clear Gabe doesn’t want to talk about it. He doesn’t want Tyson to ask about it, or know about it either, and it’s been a good day, so far. Tyson was largely able to forget about the clusterfuck that he and Gabe currently are, even with Gabe and Zoey moving into his house, and Tyson doesn’t want to mess with that.

+

They fly to Dallas with the team for a roadtrip, and Gabe sticks suspiciously close to Tyson, insists they sit together on the plane. Nate looks a little crestfallen when Tyson guiltily tells him but he seems to get over it quickly enough when Picks calls him over for a game of cards with some of the other guys.

Gabe has the armrest up, by the time Tyson makes it to their seats, and Tyson eyes it for a moment before he sits down. Their shoulders touch, like this, and Tyson tries not to think about it too hard but it’s all he can feel, all through the flight. Gabe puts on a movie on his ipad at some point, and that doesn't help in the least, just makes Tyson more conscious of how much attention he isn’t paying.

Tyson starts to wonder if this is a side effect of the bond, because he swears, he didn’t use to be like this before the bond snapped into place, but he looks at Gabe and Gabe is following along with the movie, his arm a steady weight against Tyson’s. Tyson looks away before Gabe can see him watching, closes his eyes instead and tries to get some sleep. He didn’t think he’d be able to, but the next thing he’s aware of is his head on Gabe’s shoulder, Gabe gently shaking him awake.

Tyson blinks his eyes open and stares at Gabe for a moment, uncomprehending, and the shuffle of the team around them clicks into place and he jerks back, hand rubbing at his sore neck. “Sorry,” he mumbles, and hopes to god he didn’t drool on Gabe because that is a certain level of humiliation his fragile confidence just won’t be able to take.

Gabe shrugs and tells him that it’s all good, and he doesn’t look at Tyson funny or anything, so Tyson assumes he doesn’t have any drool on his chin. Still, he asks Nate on their way out of the plane, just to be sure.

Nate looks at him like he’s crazy but he happily settles next to Tyson on the bus before Gabe can, and the two of them proceed to have a staring match until EJ bumps into Gabe from behind and tells him to get moving. Gabe doesn’t look happy to do so but he complies, takes a seat a few rows back from them.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Nate asks when the bus starts moving, quiet so the noise of the bus will drown out his voice. “Does he thinks now that you’re bonded he gets to have all to himself?”

Tyson shrugs. “I have no idea,” he says honestly. He can feel Gabe’s thinly veiled annoyance bleeding through the bond, and that’s very uncharacteristic of him; Tyson doesn’t know what to do with it. He tries to send back something soothing, and he thinks it might sort of work, because Gabe doesn’t feel quite so irritated anymore.

Nate’s still looking at him, though, so Tyson mumbles, “He’s probably just feeling territorial or something,” and hopes Nate understands without Tyson having to go into detail about his heat cycle.

“Ew,” Nate says, face contorting into something grim, and Tyson has to laugh then because he didn’t expect anything less from him.

“Dude, one day you’re gonna have to face up to the intricacies of being an adult,” he tells Nate.

“Yeah,” Nate scoffs. “Like you.”

Nate’s joking, but Tyson feels a little hurt anyway, the wound still too fresh to be poked at. Nate must be able to tell, because he backtracks quickly, stumbles over his words trying to patch things up. Tyson appreciates it so he tries not to let it bring him down, and then Nate brings out the double jack and his phone so they can listen to music, and Tyson could never really stay down around him.

Back at the hotel, Tyson and Gabe have to share a room because, as Jean tells them, that it’s what bonded pairs do. Tyson sighs and takes it a lot better than Gabe, who growls at Jean when he tries to step into the room after Tyson.

“Dude,” Tyson tells him later, once they’re alone. “You okay? You’ve been acting a little off.”

Gabe stares at Tyson for a moment and then seems to shake himself out of, a wave of guilt flooding Tyson through the bond. “I - I don’t know,” Gabe says. He _looks_ guilty, too. “I mean, I feel fine, but I just - I don’t know what’s gotten into me today.” he lets his head hang between his shoulders and sighs.

“Hey, I’m fine with it, but you probably don’t want to be growling at Nate and Jean,” Tyson says gently, because he can see that Gabe is confused by this too.

“Yeah, you - I’ll go apologize,” Gabe says. He leaves before Tyson can get another word in, comes back just in time for them to catch the bus to the rink for the game.

The two of them end up in the press box again, watching their team lose, and it’s only marginally better for Tyson because he doesn’t feel like he’s sweating through his clothes. Gabe though - he spends the entire game glaring at the ice, projecting irritation so intense that Tyson scoots his chair a little further away from him at some point. The gesture makes Gabe even more irritated, if the bond is anything to go by, and Tyson sighs but stays put.

Gabe very pointedly goes to sit by himself on the bus, so Tyson happily sits with Nate, whose mood isn’t that much better considering the loss. Tyson spends the ride over to the hotel trying to cheer him up, makes it about halfway there by the time they reach the hotel.

“Thanks, man,” Nate tells him before they get off, though it’s half hearted.

Tyson pats him on the back and says, “Anytime.” He feels Gabe’s irritation spike through the bond then and turns around, finds Gabe watching them carefully. Tyson thinks about taking his hand away but Nate is his friend, and it’s not Gabe’s job to tell Tyson who he can touch and who he can’t. The bond isn’t even supposed to be permanent; in six months they’ll both be rid of it and will be able to return to their normal lives, Tyson drooling over Gabe without feeling guilty and Gabe finally not stuck with Tyson anymore.

Tyson maybe thinks about some of that too loudly because he feels Gabe’s irritation dissipates, slowly edges out by guilt, and this is honestly driving Tyson insane, this hot and cold routine that Gabe’s been sporting all day.

Tyson’s ready to say all of this to Gabe when they make it to their room, but Gabe is already there. “I’m so sorry, you’re right,” he says, and the only reason Tyson doesn’t snap at him is that he can feel how sorry Gabe is, how much he truly regrets his behavior.

As it is, he settles for putting his hands up and sighing. “Then what’s going on with you?” he asks, voice climbing maybe a little higher than he’d meant.

“It’s not - I’ll keep it in check, I promise,” Gabe says, in that painfully earnest way of his, and Tyson takes a breath so he doesn’t give in too easily.

+

Tyson wakes up because he’s burning up, and it takes him a moment to realize that that’s not him, it’s Gabe. He - He’s hard too, and that’s not him either except for how it is, and he feels dizzy, dizzy with want, and it feels like heat except for how it doesn’t, not at all. Tyson looks to the side and Gabe is there - of course he is. His eyes are open, and he’s looking at Tyson, but mostly he seems half out of it.

“Gabe,” Tyson says - whispers because he doesn’t think he should be too loud.

Gabe makes a sound from deep in his throat, and it’s like he’s in pain. Tyson’s never been with someone through their rut, but he wonders if it’s like heat, if it hurts in this bone-deep kind of way that _aches_ afterwards, once it’s all said and done. Tyson looks at Gabe now and thinks it probably is, can’t see how it couldn't be, with how wide Gabe’s eyes are, how flushed his face is.

Gabe makes another sound and Tyson reaches out, has to. Places his hand on Gabe’s shoulder and squeezes.

“Gabe,” Tyson says again, shaking him a little.

Gabe’s eyes slowly come into focus, and he looks at Tyson intensely, and Tyson can barely breathe, much less look away. “Tys, I - ” he says, and just stops there, leaving Tyson guessing about the rest.

“Yeah, I’m - you’re good, tell me,” Tyson says, half stupid with it. He tries to take a breath and chokes on it, Gabe’s scent is so intense. It makes Tyson’s head feel light, has him clenching his thighs together, just - trying.

“I need,” Gabe says, eyes slipping shut, and Tyson gets that, he can relate to that. He shifts a little closer to Gabe until they’re pressed together, and that seems to work, a little, has Gabe relaxing against him.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Tyson tells him, because he has no idea what Gabe needs from him right now but he knows he’s willing to give it.

Gabe presses his nose into Tyson’s throat and just breathes, for the longest time, and then he’s pushing Tyson on his back, climbing on top of him. It’s a lot of weight, but the intensity is even worse, and Tyson tries to breathe through it but it’s hard; all he can hear is a chorus of _mineminemine_ going through Gabe’s head and the bond, and that’s a lot.

They lie like that for longer than Tyson can count. Tyson’s getting hard, just from the pressure coupled with Gabe’s scent, but there’s no urgency to it. He tries to shift a little to get more comfortable, because it looks like they’ll be here for a while still, but Gabe growls, a deep, throaty thing. He presses more of his weight onto Tyson and holds him in place and Tyson stops shifting.

“I’m here, I’m not going anywhere,” he says, and feels when the words register for Gabe, feels it through the bond and in Gabe’s body as he relaxes. “Right here,” he says again. He brings his arms around Gabe, slow, and Gabe breathes out, rubbing his nose over Tyson’s shoulder.

Gabe makes a contented noise, and then his hips start to rock against Tyson, slow at first but picking up speed quickly, and Tyson spreads his legs and presses up against Gabe. His breath starts coming faster, and Gabe won’t stop scenting him, and Tyson can feel himself leaking through his shorts, and it just gets Gabe going more. His teeth graze Tyson’s shoulder and Tyson’s heartbeat spikes, thinking - thinking about that, about getting claimed by Gabe.

They haven't talked about it, but Tyson - he wants it. He doesn’t know if it’s the hormones or what, but he wants it so much, to have Gabe’s mark on him.

Gabe’s teeth drag over Tyson’s skin again, and Tyson’s hips stutter, his fingers pressing into Gabe’s back. He feels Gabe’s teeth press into skin, and he thinks this is it, this is happening, and then Gabe snaps his mouth shut and kisses Tyson’s neck instead, and that’s even worse, the gentleness mixed in with the frenzy, hurts Tyson worse than a bite ever could.

“Gabe,” he says, breathy and half hearted, and Gabe's hips twitch, start moving faster. His movements grow jerky and uncoordinated, and Tyson spreads his legs wider and Gabe’s nostrils flare, and jesus, he’s smelling Tyson, his slick.

Tyson closes his eyes shut and works himself against Gabe, and it’s so much and not enough; it chafes and drags and it feels so good. It doesn’t take much more for him to come, and he makes an even bigger mess of his boxers after, feels them stick to his skin really unattractively.

Gabe keeps moving against him, and it feels like he's close only he can’t get there. He makes this deep, hurt sound, and Tyson takes him in hand, starts stroking him off, fast because he thinks that’s what Gabe wants right now.

“Just - ” Gabe breathes. “Tighter, please,” he says, and it’s the most coherent he’s been since Tyson woke up to this.

“Yeah,” Tyson tightens his fingers, tight enough that he imagines it has to hurt, and Gabe breathes out a sigh a of relief. “Like this?” Tyson asks, and it’s kind of needless.

“Yeah, please - keep going,” Gabe says, and Tyson wouldn't dream of stopping right now. He keeps jerking Gabe off, feels his knot forming at the base of his dick and tightens his fingers even more. It seems to work for Gabe, and he presses into Tyson’s hand, starts breathing hard - or rather, harder - and then he’s coming, his knot pulsing in Tyson’s palm.

Tyson’s never been with anyone through their rut, but he can tell a handjob isn’t going to cut it, right now, for Gabe.

“Should we - ” Tyson starts and flushes where he didn’t think he could. “Would fucking me help?” he manages to ask, because Gabe looks in pain right now and Tyson hates that.

Gabe looks at him with immense relief for a second, and then his eyes flutter shut. “Please,” he breathes.

“Yeah, okay.” Tyson nods. “You want me to - ”

“No, just - stay like this,” Gabe says, a little growly and a lot of rough, and Tyson’s heart is beating in his throat.

Gabe makes his way down Tyson’s chest, his kisses mostly biting, and then he reaches Tyson’s waist and pauses to pull off his boxers, maybe a little roughly, judging by the sound they make coming off. He wraps his arms around Tyson’s thigh and throws them over his shoulder, oh god, Tyson knows where this is going and he’s pretty sure he’s not going to survive it.

“Gabe,” he says. There’s a panicked edge to his voice, but Gabe just gets to work, spreads his cheeks and pushes his face between Tyson’s cheeks. Tyson jerks away from it but Gabe’s got a good grip on him, too good, and Tyson just ends up wriggling under him.

“I just - ” Gabe starts, and Tyson can feel his breath where he’s spread open. It makes him shiver, all over, and then Gabe’s mouth is on him, and Tyson’s head is spinning, his nails pressing indents into Gabe’s shoulders.

“I just want to taste you,” Gabe pulls back to say, and Tyson dies a little bit on the inside. Most of him is telling himself that is a bad idea, it’s too private, but the rest of him wants this, wants it bad, and Tyson has never really been good with self-preservation around Gabe.

He spreads his legs on Gabe’s shoulder and tries to fight through his embarrassment and push into it. Manages, almost, until he feels Gabe's stubble pinch against the inside of his cheeks and jerks, his entire body shaking with it.

“Fuck,” he says. He feels Gabe’s tongue move through where he’s most wet, feels Gabe breathe against him, these deep, deep breaths that leave Tyson feeling gutted, torn between want and shame.

Gabe doesn’t seem deterred by any of this. If anything, he presses his tongue deeper into Tyson, opens him up like that until Tyson’s trembling with it, his dick hard and eyes watering with the feeling of it.

“Gabe, please,” Tyson is saying, and it’s bizarre, how Gabe’s the one in rut and Tyson’s the one who ends up begging but Tyson doesn’t think about that too hard right now. It’s difficult to do that, with Gabe’s tongue in him, coaxing him open.

It makes Gabe finally pull away, though, makes him get his fingers into Tyson and work him open properly, until Tyson’s dripping with it, writhing on the sheets.

Then Gabe’s pushing into him, and Tyson chokes on his breath. He’s soaking wet, and everything is so slick, he can feel it, _hear_ it even, and it’s so embarrassing. It makes Tyson want to hide his face in the pillow but Gabe is right there, looking at him, and Tyson’s caught, can’t look away. He tightens himself around Gabe instead, and that has Gabe’s mouth falling open, his eyes fluttering shut.

He stops holding himself up and lays on top of Tyson instead, and it’s the same as before, the same kind of intensity. Tyson finds his eyes slipping shut and doesn’t try to fight it, just leans into it, leans into Gabe moving into him, and pretty soon he’s almost there, moving against Gabe, with him, reaching.

He feels Gabe’s knot and lets him in, and then there’s just pressure, so much of it, Gabe’s knot growing inside him, and then Tyson’s coming, untouched, with Gabe’s body pressing him to the bed, barely any room to breathe. Gabe doesn’t take too long after that, and Tyson tightens around him, tries to make it good because Gabe still looks so lost.

It goes on like that for the longest time, until Tyson’s too sore for anything than jerking Gabe off, but Gabe doesn’t seem to have any arguments there. He pushes into Tyson’s hand and breathes hard through it and after he comes he collapses against the bed, finally sated.

Tyson’s exhausted, by then, almost as much as he is after his heats, which is saying something. He looks at the bed, at the space next to Gabe and he wants nothing more than to lay there and sleep, but he reaches for the phone first, shoots off a message to Dr. Parker that Gabe’s rut has broken. He doesn’t stay up for a reply, gives into the urge and curls up under the covers next to Gabe. He closes his eyes and feels Gabe shift closer to him in his sleep, chalks it up to post-rut hormones going haywire.

+

Tyson looks at himself in the mirror the next morning, and he almost balks at the sight. He’s - bruises, he’s covered in them. His throat and the tops of his shoulders are a mess, splattered with reddish marks, and Tyson thinks it’s only going to get worse over the next couple of days as the bruises heal.

Tyson’s eyes naturally gravitate to the point where his throat meets his shoulder - where a claiming bite would go - and stay there for the longest time. There’s no bite now, just an angry red bruise, but Tyson thinks of Gabe’s teeth anyway and how they felt, sharp and pressing against his skin.

Tyson feels Gabe rouse through the bond then and has to hurry through the rest of his shower. He comes out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips because there’s no use for modesty anymore, and gets the satisfaction of watching Gabe’s jaw drop as he takes a look at Tyson.

That’s the first thing Tyson sees. The first thing he feels, through the bond, is pride - clear, unmistakable pride - immediately followed by intense guilt, either at the sight of Tyson or Gabe’s original pride, Tyson has no idea.

“Tys,” Gabe says. He gets up and walks over to Tyson, hand outstretched, before he seems to catch himself and take a step back, like he’s afraid of getting too close to Tyson. It doesn’t matter, Tyson can smell him anyway, and it’s almost overwhelming.

“What?” Tyson asks, and his voice’s got that panicked edge to it that he usually associates with Gabe and his presence.

For a moment, Gabe looks like he’s going to apologize. Tyson doesn’t feel any regret, but he can tell that much, just from the set of Gabe’s shoulders and the press of his lips, and he prays Gabe doesn’t. Doesn’t want to hear that, right now.

Maybe Gabe can tell, or he can feel it with how hard Tyson is projecting it through the bond, because he says instead, “I really did a number on you, huh.” His voice is quiet, and he’s smiling a little, and Tyson is getting so many conflicting emotions through the bond.

Tyson shrugs. He folds his arms over his chest, suddenly shy. “I’ll live,” he says.

Gabe’s face falls. “Right,” he says. “I gotta,” he gestures towards the bathroom, then goes on, “but we should talk, after.” There’s a vaguely threatening edge to the words, and Tyson thought last night went pretty well but maybe not, maybe that was just Tyson.

Tyson putters around getting dressed while Gabe showers, trying to ignore both Gabe’s voice in his head and his own. Tyson’s dressed by the time Gabe comes out, and his mind is helpfully empty, so he doesn’t have anyone but himself to blame when he stares at Gabe for five seconds too long, at his chest, dripping, and his shoulders, and his stomach.

“Tyson?” Gabe asks, and it sounds like he’s said it before and Tyson maybe missed it.

“Yeah, what?” Tyson looks away, at the carpet, the floor, at anything that isn’t Gabe and his skin.

“You looked a little lost there,” Gabe says.

“No, I’m fine,” Tyson says quickly. “What did you want to talk about?”

Gabe smiles, easy as anything. “Can I get dressed first?”

Tyson flushes. “Sure,” he says. He turns his back to Gabe and fiddles with his phone as Gabe gets dressed, trying to give him some privacy.

“Okay,” Gabe says after a couple of minutes, so Tyson turns around. He thought Gabe had gotten dressed, which is why he’s surprised to find him shirtless, and honestly, one would have thought that after sharing a locker room with him for the past few years Tyson would be over this, but this is different and Tyson isn’t.

Tyson’s good about not staring this time, not thinking about it either, because he doesn’t want something like that to slip through the bond.

“I almost - I almost bit you last night,” Gabe starts. Tyson shivers at the memory, then tries to hide it. “And that was seriously uncool of me,” Gabe goes on. Tyson feels the regret now, loud enough that he has to blink against the onslaught of it.

“I - it’s fine,” Tyson mumbles weakly. He honestly doesn’t know what to do with what Gabe’s telling him. Tyson wanted it, he knows that much, and that kind of thing is too terrifying to admit out loud.

“It’s not,” Gabe shakes his head. Tyson reasonably knows that Gabe is right, but the memory of his teeth against Tyson’s skin is too close, the need too close to the surface.

Tyson says nothing, just lets Gabe take the lead.

“I’m sorry,” Gabe says finally. “It won’t happen again,” he says.

Tyson hopes his regret isn’t as strong as Gabe’s right then.

+

The team flies them back to Colorado to recuperate, and Gabe spends the entire flight apologizing to Tyson for making him miss the rest of the road trip. Tyson wanted to spend time with the guys but it’s not like he was doing anything other than watching from the press box, so it’s not like this is some grand loss.

Tyson says this to Gabe, though Gabe looks largely unconvinced of it. His eyes linger on Tyson’s neck, where some of the marks are peaking through his shirt, and Tyson feels a wash of guilt come through the bond.

“Seriously, dude, I don’t mind,” he sighs, because he’s still tired from last night and Gabe’s guilt sure isn’t helping. “Now quit it.”

Gabe doesn't, but at least he tries to think less loudly at Tyson, which Tyson appreciates. He carefully leans back against the seat and closes his eyes, hopes his head stays put through the flight so he can avoid further confrontation of feelings.

It figures that his head wouldn’t, and Tyson wakes up with his face half mashed into Gabe’s shoulder again. His neck is stiff with it, and Gabe’s got his hand on Tyson’s shoulder. He’s looking at Tyson, and his eyes are ridiculously blue, and death would be kinder than waking up to this.

“We’re almost there,” Gabe says.

Tyson groans and sits up, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth because he’s still paranoid about drooling on Gabe. Gabe laughs at him, a little, eyes crinkling with it, and Tyson barely resists the urge to bang his head into the seat in front of him.

As it is, he settles for a half hearted, “Shut up,” and tries to stay awake through the rest of the flight.

He and Gabe drive by Zoey’s dog sitter to pick her up after the plane lands. Zoey barks happily at Gabe until he crouches down to pet her, scratch behind her ears, all the while talking to her in a low voice. Tyson and the sitter exchange a fond look, and Tyson waits patiently for his turn pet Zoey.

There’s a moment, when they’re back home, standing in the hallway, where Tyson thinks Gabe is going to follow him to his bedroom, but Gabe doesn’t and they sleep separately. Tyson spends a long time tossing and turning, and the worst part is he can’t even blame the bond for it now, it’s just him.

+

Tyson and Gabe are set to meet with Dr. Parker the next week so they can get evaluated on whether they're ready to get back to the ice with the team. Tyson can feel Gabe’s nerves bleeding through the bond, and he’s not much better but he still gets the overwhelming urge to comfort Gabe, somehow. He’s pretty sure that’s the bond, because Tyson didn’t use to feel like this before, but he still tries.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he says, when they’re driving to the rink. Tyson’s gotten pretty good about pushing the smell to the back of his mind now, and he only rolls the window down a little bit, barely enough to feel the cold air on his face.

“You don’t know that,” Gabe says. His eyes are on the road, and he’s never commented on Tyson’s inability to be in the same car with the windows up.

“It’s been two weeks.” Tyson shrugs. “The bond is fine; there’s no reason to keep us out of the lineup any longer,” he says.

Gabe makes a vagues humming noise but doesn’t say anything else.

It’s early enough when they get to the rink that they don’t run into anyone on the way to Dr. Parker’s office. Gabe’s nerves are wound up tight, by the time Tyson is knocking on the door, and Tyson doesn’t know what to tell him to make him feel better so he settles for a hand on Gabe’s shoulder, and that seems to do the trick.

Dr. Parker takes Gabe in first, asking Tyson to wait outside for a few minutes, and Tyson’s a little peeved by that but he goes with it. He tries to focus on the bond like that’s going to tell him anything about what Dr. Parker’s doing in there, but there’s nothing to go off, just Gabe’s general uneasiness.

Tyson sighs and leans against the wall, tapping his foot restlessly on the floor. He gets a wave of embarrassment at some point harsh enough to make his face feel warm, but that’s about it. He tries to give back something comforting, doesn’t know how successful he is.

Gabe is flushed, when he comes out, but he meets Tyson’s eyes easily and gives him a smile. Tyson wants to ask him how it went, but Dr. Parker’s calling him in then, so he just ends up waving awkwardly and shutting the door behind him.

It’s just general questions at first, like how he’s feeling and how the bond’s settling, and Tyson tries to answer as truthfully as he can.

“The feedback loop is way better,” he says, when Dr. Parker asks him about it.

“That’s great news.” Dr. Parker nods. “Gabe said the same thing.”

Dr. Parker goes on with a few more questions, about Tyson’s cycle and how it’s adjusting to the bond, and after he’s done he claps Tyson on the back and tells him he can go ahead and practice with the team - no-contact because they still don’t know how the bond will react to that but still. Tyson didn’t realize it before, but he can feel a weight lift from his chest, just like that, and he can’t help the excited smile he shoots Gabe once he’s out of Dr. Parker’s office.

+

Gabe and Tyson don’t get to play against Edmonton, relegated once again to the press box, but they get rid of the no-contact jerseys two days later and suit up against Vancouver. Tyson calls his dad beforehand to talk about the game, and is surprised when his dad turns the conversation to him and Gabe instead.

“Huh?” Tyson says eloquently, when his dad asks him how things have been between them.

“You know, with the bond and everything,” his dad explains.

“Oh. Uhm…” Tyson trails off. He looks out the window at his back year, where Gabe is playing with Zoey, and says, “Things have been good,” and his voice isn’t even that strained.

“That’s great. That’s really great,” his dad says, and Tyson thinks that’s the end of it, but he’s always had a tendency to be a little naive.

“I’m just asking because the bond was so sudden,” his dad goes on. Tyson looks to the ceiling and lets out a breath.

“Yeah, I mean, it was, kind of,” he mumbles. He’s not sure where this going, but he has no doubts in his father’s ability to make him reach maximum discomfort.

“We just want you to be happy, is all,” his dad says. “And we - I didn’t think you’d bond while still playing, but I’m happy you did. Happy you have someone like that.”

Tyson closes his eyes. “Dad,” he starts. “The bond is - it was an accident. Gabe and I - ”

“I know it was an accident,” his dad says quicky. “I’m just saying, a bond is what you make it, and if Gabe makes you happy, then…” he trails off, and Tyson left looking at Gabe again, at where he’s crouched down to scratch behind Zoey’s ears.

“I mean,” his dad goes, when Tyson’s been quiet for too long. “He makes you happy, right?” he asks.

Tyson - he’s not sure how to answer that. Tyson can feel himself blushing, and wonders if Gabe can feel his embarrassment through the bond. Tyson is just getting a lighthearted sense of happiness from Gabe, and that’s - it’s a nice feeling. It’s not the only feeling though.

“I - it’s complicated,” Tyson settles on.

His dad sighs but doesn’t push for more. “One more thing,” he says, changing the subject. “Your mom and I were looking at tickets the other day, and we - ”

“Now’s really not a good time, dad,” Tyson says, a slightly panicked edge to his voice. He tries to imagine his dad, his mom and Gabe in the same room and figures that's a surefire way to get Tyson to hide under a rock and never come out again.

“Are you sure? Because we both really wanted to see you,” his dad says, and he sounds a little sad, and Tyson’s already caving.

“Okay, just - give me a couple ofdays to talk it over with Gabe, okay?” Tyson suggests, because Gabe and he live together now, and Tyson doesn’t want to subject Gabe to further awkwardness; being bonded to Tyson is bad enough already.

His dad lets out a breath. “Oh, yeah, that’s great. Say hello from us,” he says.

Tyson assures him that he will, and they say goodbye. Gabe and Zoey come back inside not ten seconds later, and Tyson wonders if Gabe was staying out on purpose, trying to give Tyson privacy.

“How’s your dad?” Gabe asks him, sliding the door shut behind himself.

Tyson flushes, even though he knows Gabe can’t possibly know what he and his dad talked about. “Uhm, he’s - you know, the usual,” he says. Then, in his haste to change the subject, he blurts out, “He and mom wanted to visit.”

“That’s great.” Gabe turns to face Tyson and smiles honestly. “When were they thinking?”

“Oh,” Tyson says, surprised. “I mean, I thought you’d - anyway,” he backtracks. “I told them we’d talk it over first. I mean, my parents, they know the bond is fake.”

Gabe nods. There’s a crease between his eyebrows, like he’s really focused on what Tyson’s saying, and Tyson stumbles a little bit over his words trying to explain the rest of his point.

“It’s just, well. They won’t - accept it? I mean, they keep saying stuff, and it’s - it’s like they keep expecting me to tell them it’s real, and it’s not, so,” Tyson finishes awkwardly. Gabe’s half of the bond is strangely empty, the kind of empty that Tyson knows from experience can only be purposeful. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” he adds.

Gabe frowns for a moment and then he seems to get over it and shrugs. “I get where they’re coming from,” he says. “And it wouldn't make me feel uncomfortable. Just tell them to visit whenever.” he smiles easily, and Tyson is so envious of him, at that moment. Envious of Gabe’s ease that Tyson wishes he could match.

“Thanks then,” Tyson says quickly, trying to mask all that up. Gabe’s expression doesn’t change, so Tyson thinks he does a pretty good job of it. “I’ll tell them.”

They really do have to head to the rink after that, where Jean ropes Tyson into a pre-game interview that Tyson both tries and fails to weasel his way out of.

“Just to show that everything is normal,” Jean reasons.

Tyson stares dumbly at him. He accidentally bonded to Gabe freaking Landeskog, that’s the exact opposite of _normal_.

Jean seems to get all that even without being bonded to Tyson, because he relents. “I know, I know, just bear with me,” he says. “We need to show that the team is on the same page on this. Just go and say that everything is fine and that you don’t expect anything to change.”

Tyson presses his lips together. “Okay,” he says. “I’m only doing this because I like you though.”

Jean laughs. “Much appreciated, Tyson,” he says.

Tyson’s not feeling too confident about the interview, still, and that doesn’t change when he comes to his stall only to find double the number of reporters that are usually there. He swallows, looking over his shoulder at Jean, who gives him a thumbs up. Tyson snorts but it does make him feel a little better, and he walks over to the reporters trying not to look too terrified.

“How does it feel to be able to play again?” is the first question, which Tyson answers easily enough with minimal stumbling.

The second one is more along the lines of what he was expecting to get asked. “Is it different, playing with Gabe now that you guys are bonded?”

“I mean, not really.” Tyson shakes his head. “There are no magical passes, we already tried that and it didn’t work,” he says, and some of the reporters laugh a little.

“Wouldn’t it have been better for you to bond during the offseason?” someone else asks.

Tyson shrugs and tries to make it look effortless. “A bond isn’t something you can plan,” he says. “So when it happened…” he trails off for a moment. “Gabe and I were pretty happy when it happened,” he says, and it comes out honest, for the most part, even though it couldn't be further from the truth.

The rest of the questions are relatively easy, and Tyson goes into the game feeling pretty good, so it’s just his luck that they end up losing. Again. Tyson knows it’s still early in the season, but it’s hard not to feel discouraged when all the losses are piling up.

Gabe has to do his own interview after the game, so Tyson sticks around to wait for him so he can drive them home. The questions are mostly the same, and Tyson doesn’t pay too close attention, just pulls out his phone and texts with his dad a little bit.

Gabe’s almost finished when someone asks, “What’s it like being bonded to Tyson?” and that draws Tyson’s attentions pretty efficiently. He puts his phone away and turns towards Gabe even though he can’t see him through the swarm of reporters.

He can hear him pretty well though, so well gabe says, “It’s - he’s great,” it’s hard to miss it. When Gabe goes on, it doesn’t get easier. “He’s one of my best friends, and it’s great to have that, to be able to call your best friend your bondmate, too.”

Tyson flushes at that and looks away, at the carpet under his feet. The interview wraps up after that thankfully, so Tyson doesn’t have to be subjected to any more blushing.

“Thanks,” Gabe says later, when they’re in the car, driving home.

“Hmm?” Tyson asks, mostly distracted.

“About what you said in the interview,” Gabe explains. “I know you didn’t want this,” he goes on. “So thanks for saying that stuff.”

Tyson shrugs as much as he can. “I mean, I told you, we’re in this together,” he says. “It’s not like _you_ wanted this,” Tyson reasons.

“Yeah,” Gabe says softly. For a moment Tyson thinks he’s going to say more, but Gabe doesn’t, so Tyson lets it go.

+

Tyson’s parents come to visit the next week. Gabe has to move all his stuff into Tyson’s room to free up the guest room, and Tyson spends about the entire week leading up to his parents’ visit apologizing for the inconvenience.

“Seriously, Tys, it’s fine,” Gabe tells him with a sigh, moving some more of his clothes into Tyson's closet. Tyson’s parents are only going to be here for a week, but Gabe’s acting like it’s going to be closer to a month with all the clothes that he’s grabbing.

“You’ve barely been here two weeks and I’ve made you move your stuff already twice,” Tyson mumbles. He probably should have invested into another guest room but he didn’t see this coming, really.

“It’s fine,” Gabe stresses. He hands Tyson some of his jeans and tells him to put them away.

Tyson doesn’t own a ridiculous amount of clothing like Gabe does, but it’s still a challenge to fit everything into a single closet. Tyson has to squish a bunch of stuff together, and by the end all he can think about is how his clothes are going to smell like Gabe, after, his detergent and his scent. Tyson’s stomach curls at the thought, and he can’t tell if it’s a good feeling or a bad one, like with most things that pertain to Gabe these days.

By the time they’re done moving Gabe’s clothes, it’s time for Tyson to drive to the airport. He asks Gabe if he’d like to come before he realizes how awkward that is, but by then he can’t take it back. He blushes instead, and ducks his head, but Gabe doesn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.

“It’s okay,” he says. “I have some stuff that I need to do anyway.” It’s not very informative, and Tyson squints at him. Gabe doesn’t offer anything else though, and Tyson doesn't want to be late, so he doesn’t push.

Tyson manages to get there on time, hugs his parents at the airport and carries his mom’s bag to the car. His dad asks about the team, on the ride back home, gently like he doesn’t want to rub Tyson the wrong way, and Tyson can’t blame him with the losing streak they’re on. He mumbles his way through something generic that he is certain doesn’t fool his dad and waits for his mom to change the subject for the rest of the drive.

Something smells nice, is the first thing Tyson notices when they get home, and it’s not just Gabe. It’s more like something edible, and Tyson’s stomach makes a sound.

“You made dinner?” his mom asks, and Tyson hedges, uncertain, until Gabe comes out of the kitchen, smiling widely and wiping his hand on a towel.

“Hi,” he says. “It’s great to see you again.” he shakes Tyson’s dad’s hand and hugs his mom, and Tyson can already see his charm working full speed, can already see the results. He suppresses a groan because his parents have enough ideas about this as it is, they don’t need Gabe’s charm encouraging them.

“How was your trip?” Gabe asks, at which point Tyson’s brain kicks back into gear.

“Their trip was long,” he says, cutting off his mom. “Gabe, can I talk to you for a second?”

Gabe has the decency to looks mildly guilty for ambushing Tyson like this but Tyson doesn’t let himself be deterred.

“In the kitchen,” he says, and starts walking anyway, doesn’t check to see if Gabe follows him.

Gabe does, and then they’re alone, and Tyson has a room to himself to hiss, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Uhm… making chicken alfredo?” Gabe tries, and Tyson ignores his stomach yet again in favor of smacking Gabe’s bicep.

“Don’t play stupid,” he says. “They already - ” he catches himself, voice too loud, and tries again. “They already think this should be a thing.” he gestures between the two of them, a little frantic.

“So?” Gabe asks, shrugging.

Tyson does a double take. “So?” he repeats, voice rising and cheeks heating because what even. “What - what are you - what do you mean so?” Tyson stumbles over his words.

Gabe shrugs again. “I mean, if they want to think that, let them think it,” he says, like it’s that simple.

“That’s - you don’t have a problem with that?” Tyson finds himself asking, because he knows where he himself stands, but he has no idea about Gabe. He tries to reach out to him through the bond and comes up empty, or, not empty, but full of white noise, and Tyson doesn’t even know what to do with that.

“It’s fine by me,” Gabe says now.

Tyson sighs and looks over his shoulder. He can make out the sounds of his parents walking up the stairs, presumably to the guest room, and feels bad for the way he acted, because Gabe just wanted to do something nice for them. He pushes that through the bond, and Gabe blinks, takes a step back before he catches himself and takes two closer to Tyson instead.

“Tys,” he just says and Tyson wants to tell him that this is a lot, everything is a lot when it comes to Gabe, but he doesn’t know how to do that without confessing to practically everything so instead he simply apologizes.

“Don’t worry about it,” Gabe tells him easily. He looks at Tyson and reaches out, puts his hand on Tyson’s shoulder, and the relief is instant. The bond is steady enough that being apart doesn’t hurt anymore, but it’s still not pleasant, and Tyson’s not really quite aware of how much he and Gabe touch until they’re suddenly not anymore, and it feels terrible, like a part of him is missing.

“Thanks,” he says now, more honest than he means to be, but that's a theme when it comes to Gabe. Tyson really ought to be used to it by now.

+

Dinner is amazing, not that Tyson had any doubt. He and Gabe sit next to each other, shoulders brushing every few seconds whenever they reach for something, and it’s like a little bit more tension goes out of Tyson with each touch. His parents sit across from them and observe quietly, intent enough for Tyson to find it a little unnerving, but he can’t even bear to tense up, not with Gabe next to him.

Tyson’s mom compliments Gabe on his cooking, and Tyson flushes proudly for some reason, has to squash down the urge to reach across the little space between them and link his and Gabe’s fingers together. Tyson thinks his mom can tell, because she smiles quietly and she and Tyson’s dad exchange a careful look, one Tyson doesn’t stand a chance picking apart.

After they’re all done, Tyson gets up to pick up the dishes, fighting Gabe's arguments the entire time.

“You cooked, let me do something,” Tyson says in the end, which seems to settle it.

Gabe smiles up at him, tells him to bring the dessert too. Tyson’s chest warms pleasantly at that, and he fights through his inner embarrassment to push the feeling towards Gabe, because Gabe made him feel like this, he deserves to know it. He still has to take a moment to stand in front of the open fridge when he makes it to the kitchen, just to regain some of his chill - near-nonexistent as it may be.

Tyson stands there for a few seconds and then takes a breath, grabs the bakery box from the top shelf of the fridge and a bunch of plates and forks and carries them to the table. He comes in just in time to catch the tail end of his dad asking Gabe about the team, to feel Gabe tense through the bond, watch his shoulders straighten through his eyes.

“Well, every season has its ups and downs,” Gabe is saying, and his voice is tight - not noticeably so to someone who doesn’t know him to well, but enough for Tyson to pick up on it. He smiles tightly to match his voice, and Tyson’s dad must get it then, because he changes the subject, asks instead about the weather in Sweden, and that’s where Tyson probably got his social skills from.

Tyson makes sure to squeeze Gabe’s shoulder when he sits back down, hoping contact will have the same effect on him as it  does on Tyson. His parents kind of make a big deal of staring, but Gabe leans into it, so. It’s a win after all.

+

Tyson parents go to bed not too long after, tired from their flight, which leaves just Tyson alone with Gabe in the kitchen. The two of them load the dishwasher and wash whatever doesn’t fit in the sink, moving easily around each other. Gabe is quiet, almost contemplative, and Tyson can feel his mind working, a dull buzz through the bond.

“Thanks for tonight,” he finds himself saying, and the buzzing stops when Gabe turns to look at him, smiling shyly. “It was really nice.”

Gabe shrugs, knocking his shoulder into Tyson. “It was no problem,” he says. “I wanted them to like me,” he goes on, and Tyson can’t even start to piece that together, too afraid of what it may mean, so he ends up mumbling a lame, “Cool,” and just avoiding Gabe’s eyes in general.

They go to bed, after, and it’s easy there too, in Tyson’s room, to move around each other. Easier than it should be, Tyson privately thinks, and wonders how much of that is the bond and how much is them.

They start off at opposite ends of the bed, when they lay down, and stay that way. Tyson makes a conscious effort not to spread too much, even though it’s a big bed, and he doesn’t know if it’s the same for Gabe but he thinks it might be, if the tightness Tyson gets in the bond is anything to go by. It’s not bad, the first few minutes, but after a while it’s all Tyson can feel, this restlessness inside his head that won’t budge and won’t let him sleep.

Gabe breaks first. “This is so stupid,” he says. He shifts closer, just a little, and Tyson lets out a breath, mostly relief, and shifts closer, too. They move like that until they’re touching, from shoulder to ankle, half sharing the same pillow, and Tyson can feel Gabe’s warmth under the covers, can hear his breath, and the bond rests for what feels the first time after they stopped touching.

Tyson wakes up like that, more or less, too early and curled around Gabe, his nose pressed to Gabe’s neck, and he can’t help but breathe in, just a little - not too loud because he doesn’t want to wake Gabe up. He takes another one, after the first, and can’t bring himself to stop. Gabe smells so good, like himself and like Tyson and like he’s bonded, and that’s - it’s getting to Tyson, how he can smell himself on Gabe.

It maybe gets to him a little too much and he has to shift his hips back, because that’s just rude. Gabe makes a noise then, mostly muffled but definitely annoyed, and shifts back, grabs Tyson’s arm and pulls Tyson’s arm tighter around him. Tyson’s heart does something in his chest, and he can’t help but press his lips into the back of Gabe’s neck, and that’s all he allows himself.

“Gabe,” he says, quiet, almost regretful, because he wants this, he knows he does, but this isn’t heat and it isn’t rut and he doesn’t know what to call this.

“Shh,” Gabe just tells him, voice rough with sleep. He presses himself against Tyson and Tyson chokes on his breath, and there’s no way Gabe can’t feel how hard Tyson is like this. Tyson holds his breath, waiting for Gabe to get it, but Gabe doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t flinch either. He links their fingers together instead, on his stomach, and moves back against Tyson, and Tyson gasps, squeezing Gabe’s fingers.

“Gabe,” he says again, and it’s different this time, even he himself can hear it, hungrier and more desperate and Tyson wishes, if Gabe wants to pull back, to do it now, because he’s pretty sure he won’t be able to take it later.

“Yeah,” Gabe says, a breath. He shivers when Tyson rocks his hips, just once, and lets out a breath, sharp. Tyson presses his lips to the back of Gabe’s neck again, kisses whatever spot he can reach. He carefully untangles their fingers and moves his hand lower and lower still, under the waistband of Gabe’s boxers.

Gabe is hard, his dick wet at the tip, and Tyson wants to ask if it’s the smell, if it’s working for Gabe the same way it's working for Tyson. It’s too quiet for words though, the air between them, so Tyson doesn’t. Curls his hand around Gabe instead and strokes him slowly, too slowly, if the sounds Gabe makes is anything to go by.

“Tys,” he murmurs, and Tyson can’t help it, he grazes his teeth over Gabe’s shoulder, imagines what his mark would look like on Gabe’s shoulder and if Gabe would like that. Gabe arches into it, and Tyson allows himself, just for that moment, to think that Gabe might, even without the bond and everything else between them.

“I’m here,” he says now, the words rough and quiet. He keeps working Gabe too slow and too light, until Gabe is tense, reaching for it, and then Tyson tightens his hand, just a little, still not as much as Gabe would like. “Just - let me,” he says. His teeth graze Gabe’s shoulder again, and Gabe shudders, this full-bodied thing that has Tyson’s dick leaking in his underwear.

“You smell so good,” Tyson says, now. He works his hand a little faster and faster still, until Gabe’s breathing hard, sweat beading across his skin. “I’ve never smelled anything better in my life,” he goes on, half to hear the choked up sound Gabe makes and half because it’s true, too true, more so than Tyson would like.

“Tyson,” Gabe breathes. His hand is on Tyson’s forehand, nails digging into the skin there, and he’s getting closer, Tyson can tell. He tightens his fingers a little bit more and keeps talking, his own toes curling under the sheets.

“You smell - fuck, you smell like me, Gabe,” Tyson says, and there’s wonder in his voice, wonder that he hopes Gabe won't be able to make out.

“Jesus, Tys,” Gabe chokes. Tyson never quite seen him outside rut and he takes everything and commits it to memory, from the tension in Gabe’s body to his labored breaths and everything in between.

“You smell like you’re mine,” Tyson goes on, rambling at this point, and he’s sure that later he’ll feel embarrassed about everything that he said, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. He instead focuses on Gabe and Gabe only, and jerks him off until Gabe comes, keeps stroking him for a few seconds after, until Gabe’s arching away from it, oversensitive.

Tyson kisses his neck until Gabe comes down from it. He holds out for as long as he can but he's only human and Gabe smells so good, and pretty soon he’s rocking his hips again, pressing into Gabe’s ass. Gabe lets out a surprised breath and Tyson pulls back, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” he says, and wishes for the bed to open up and swallow him whole. It doesn’t happen, of course.

“No, it’s - ” Gabe tries. “You can - my thighs? If you want?” he asks, and what is Tyson even supposed to say to that?

“Gabe - ” he starts, and the Gabe is moving, shifting under the covers to probably take his boxers off.

“Do you have any lube?” Gabe asks, and Tyson wants to punch himself in the face because he definitely doesn’t. He momentarily thinks about using his own slick, and that’s - it’s a thought.

“Tyson,” Gabe says. He’s a little red still, and a little frantic, and Tyson gets the feeling.

“I could - you know,” Tyson says, gesturing to himself, too embarrassed to suggest it out loud.

Gabe only looks at him for a second and then he seems to get it, eyes growing wide and lips parting. His cheeks flame, too, and Tyson gets a wave of lust through the bond strong enough to knock the breath out of him, which about answers Tyson’s question on where Gabe stands on the matter.

“Fuck, go for it,” Gabe says. He lays back down, his back to Tyson’s chest, and he’s - there's nothing separating them now. Tyson wants to touch so he does, Gabe’s hips and his ass and his chest, his soft dick where it’s resting against his thigh. Gabe shivers his way through it but doesn't object, and, when Tyson pushes between his thighs - his own slick easing the way - he tightens his muscles and makes it good, makes Tyson choke on his breath.

After, Gabe smells even more like Tyson. It’s the only thing Tyson can think about until Gabe shifts a little further away and Tyson can get some clean air into his lungs, but some clean air is all it takes for him to tense up, to realize what they just did. His first thought is remorse, because he doesn’t want Gabe to freak out, doesn’t want to push him away.

Tyson maybe thinks about that a bit too loudly because Gabe huffs, says, “It wasn’t that bad,” probably only getting the remorse bit.

“What? No - just - ” Tyson backtracks.

“Relax, I was kidding,” Gabe says easily. He lays there with a hand thrown over his eyes and he looks so good in Tyson’s bed, smells so good covered in his scent.

“This wasn't heat, and it wasn't rut,” Tyson finds himself saying still, and apparently the habit to put his foot in his mouth hasn’t quit him yet. “So…”

“So?” Gabe asks, and Tyson is pretty sure, he’s not imagining the defensiveness in his voice.

“I’m just…” Tyson trails off. “What is this?”

Gabe is quiet for a moment, long enough to make Tyson’s stomach curl unpleasantly. “What do you want it to be?” he asks eventually, and that’s such a heavy question.

Tyson wants - he wants this to be everything. He wants to wake up with Gabe and go to bed with him and he wants everything in between. More importantly, he wants Gabe to want these things too, and he thinks Gabe does, to an extent, but he’s also pretty sure that’s mostly the bond, and Tyson hates that.

Tyson just - he wants. Too much, probably.

“I want…” _whatever you want_ is on the tip of his tongue, but that wouldn't be fair, not to Gabe and not to Tyson either. _Anything_ is probably too desperate; too honest, too. “I want to make the most of this,” Tyson ends up going with, and his heart beats in his throat as he utters the words, because even that admission takes a lot out of him.

The seconds until Gabe breathes out are probably some of the longest of Tyson’s life. “Okay,” he says. Then, “We can do that.”

+

Tyson’s parents have already been to Denver a couple of time, so there’s nowhere really to show them around to. They just end up coming to the home games and catching dinner after, one with Gabe and once without him, despite his parents reassurances that he’s welcome.

“You need to spend alone, too,” Gabe argues, which pretty much sucks for Tyson because his mom spends entirely too long talking about how great Gabe is. And Tyson has it bad enough for Gabe as it is, he doesn’t need his mom’s encouragement on top of everything.

Still, it’s his mom, so that doesn’t really stop her. She insists Gabe comes with them to the airport when they’re set to leave, and hugs him as they drop them off, and Gabe fucking glows with it.

Tyson can’t figure out why Gabe so invested in Tyson’s parents liking him, and asking only gets him vague mumbling about making nice impressions in return, so he lets it drop and kisses Gabe instead as soon as they're alone at home again.

+

Things for the team get pretty bad in December. They still lose more than they win, still are out of the playoffs, and their place in the standings takes a toll on everyone. The locker room gets more and more subdued after every loss, and Gabe seems to take it the hardest. Tyson knows why, knows Gabe has the captaincy to deal with on top of everything, but it still aches when he can feel Gabe’s sadness through the bond, the weight of failure stacked on top of his own.

Tyson wants to talk to Gabe about it, but he also isn't sure if he should. He doesn’t know what he’d say that Gabe hasn’t already heard, doesn’t know what Gabe might want to hear either, and he wouldn't want to make things worse by blurting out the wrong thing. Tyson would talk to Gabe as a friend, but they’re something different now, something new, and Tyson isn’t sure how to approach it from this angle.

In the end, Gabe pretty much takes the choice out of Tyson’s hands by bringing it up. It’s after a humiliating 10-1 loss to the Habs, and Gabe waits until Nate has gotten up to use the bathroom before claiming his seat next to Tyson.

“Hey,” he says, tired, knocking their shoulders together. They haven't spent a lot of time touching -and the relief Tyson feels is immediate, flooding through him and leaving him drained. He can feel Gabe’s frustration through the bond, feel it ease as Tyson presses against him, and Tyson can’t help but think about how good this would feel skin-to-skin; how much he’s missed it.

They haven't had sex since that morning. Gabe hasn’t offered and Tyson is too awkward to suggest it, and, anyway, their record lately has left them both in pretty low spirits. Tyson kind of wants it now though, kind of wishes he had the guts to go out and say it, too. He doesn’t though, so, as it is, he settles for a slightly mumbled, “What’s up?”

Gabe only sighs, letting his head rest back against the seat. Tyson can relate. He says as much and Gabe huffs out a half-hearted laugh.

“Guess we all can,” he says.

There’s a slightly awkward pause after that, long enough for Nate to come out of the restroom, see Gabe in his seat and tumble down next to Rants, a few rows ahead of them.

“Wanna talk about it?” Tyson eventually asks, quiet enough that it’s only for Gabe.

Gabe shrugs, just one shoulder, the one not touching Tyson. Tyson can feel his seething misery through the bond, a heavy sheet of fog behind his eyes.

Tyson purses his lips. “I mean, it could have been worse,” he says.

Gabe snorts. “Please, enlighten me,” he says.

Tyson opens his mouth, snaps it shut again. “Okay, I lied,” he admits.

Gabe cracks a smile, muted but still a smile, and Tyson jots it down as a victory for him. He nudges their shoulders together again. “It’s just a bad stretch,” he says, which is his dad had told him after the game, so it’s a little bit cheating but who cares.

“I know,” Gabe is quick to say. “I just…” he trails off, and Tyson doesn’t even need  for him to go on because he can feel most of everything through the bond, can easily match words to it and make sentences. _I’m the captain, we should be winning, we should be in the playoffs._

“Yeah,” Tyson says, a little caught in all that Gabe’s feeling. “I get that.”

They don’t say much else, but Gabe doesn’t get up for the rest of the short flight. They eventually move the armrest out of the way and sit like that, and Tyson knows this feels good for Gabe too, and he wonders why they didn’t do it sooner.

Back at the hotel, where they still share rooms, Tyson waits until they’re in bed and closes the distance between them, plasters himself to Gabe’s back. Gabe tenses, and Tyson holds his breath for one, two, five long seconds until Gabe relaxes back into him. He breathes out then, and throws a hand over Gabe’s side, curls it round his chest.

The next day Gabe is decidedly more chipper, his mind bright and loud where it edges into Tyson’s. He thanks Tyson, before they go down for breakfast, too, and Tyson is caught staring for a moment, at Gabe’s smile and at trying to figure out what Gabe means.

“For last night,” Gabe eventually says.

Tyson nods too quickly, too worried about getting caught to actually listen to what Gabe’s saying. “Anytime,” he still manages to get out.

+

They win their next game, and it feels like relief more than anything. When they get back to the hotel room, Gabe boxes Tyson against the hotel room door and pushes his nose in Tyson’s neck, and Tyson is starting to suspect that Gabe might have a thing for this. He breathes in deep against Tyson’s skin and lets out a shivering breath, and Tyson wraps his arms around him, holds him steady.

“Okay?” he asks.

Gabe nods into Tyson’s neck, and then he presses his lips to the skin there, drags them higher and higher still to Tyson’s jaw. Kisses the bone there and then his chin, until he reaches Tyson’s mouth, and then he kisses him there too, slow and deep and Tyson pants into his mouth, knees growing weak.

“Jesus,” he says when they pull back, breathless, and wonders if Gabe will ever not have this effect on him.

Gabe takes a step back and starts taking off his shirt, steadily revealing more and more skin, and Tyson thinks not, probably. He stares, fixated, as Gabe shrugs his shirt off, and then his mind finally kicks into gear and he starts getting naked too.

They tumble onto the bed, Gabe on top of Tyson, his weight pressing Tyson to the mattress, and they keep kissing, breathing against each other. Tyson can small Gabe everywhere, smell how Gabe smells like him, and feel him in his head, pleased and happy and horny. It’s working for Tyson, this bizarre combination of senses, and he gets lost in it, ruts up against Gabe and lets Gabe push a thigh between his own, work to get him off.

Tyson can feel Gabe leaking against his thigh, and just the feel of it is getting him wet, wet everywhere. It’s a little embarrassing, how Gabe can get him going this easily, but mostly Tyson’s is too hot right now to care.

Gabe pulls back at some point, makes a placating noise when Tyson protests. “Just a sec,” he says, and comes back with a bottle of lube. Tyson is just about ready to admit they don’t need that, but then Gabe’s coating his fingers and reaching behind himself, and Tyson chokes on his own breath.

“Oh god,” he says. He rests his hands along Gabe’s hips, rubs the skin there in uneven circles, rocking up against him, as much as he can.

“You like the view?” Gabe asks, and maybe it’d be more effective if his voice didn’t shake, if the tips of his ears weren’t red.

“Do I like the view, he asks,” Tyson mutters, fingers digging into Gabe’s skin. “How can you even…” he trails off, at the sight of Gabe’s eyes sliding shut, the feel of his dick leaking steadily on Tyson’s stomach.

“Okay, okay,” Gabe is saying then, and he’s pulling his fingers out, shifting until he’s kneeling over Tyson’s dick.

“Are you - ” Tyson starts to ask, because that was a little quick, but Gabe just shakes his head and takes Tyson’s dick in his hand, starts to sink down on it.

Gabe goes slow, too slow, but his mouth is pinched into a tight line and his eyes are screwed shut, and Tyson just does his best to stay still. He can’t do anything about the hard press of his nails into Gabe’s thighs, but Gabe doesn’t seem to pay that any mind. He’s so tight, Tyson thinks, and can’t help but push into it, a little, try to thrust up.

Gabe hisses, eyes flying open, and he gives Tyson a look like he’s disappointed. “Stay still,” he says, and Tyson does because he wants - he wants to so bad to be good, good for Gabe.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, regretful. He lets go of Gabe’s hips and starts rubbing at his thighs again, as soothing as he can while hissing at how tight Gabe is.

“Okay,” Gabe says again, once he’s got about half of Tyson’s dick inside him. “Okay, fuck - ” he starts to move then, tiny, hitching motions that have Tyson clenching down on nothing, and his breathing is labored, his hips twitching with every shift.

“You need - ” Tyson asks, and doesn’t even know what to offer.

“You can,” Gabe just says, so Tyson lets out a breath and starts moving, slow, rocking, working himself in and out of Gabe.

Gabe’s hands come around Tyson’s wrists, at some point, fingers linking together, and then Gabe’s leaning forward, pressing their hands into the mattress. Tyson can feel his breath, like this, and he surges up to kiss Gabe. it doesn't take much effort; Gabe is so close already, and then they’re kissing, or trying to, anyway, mostly just end up breathing together.

Tyson doesn’t have much leverage like this, but he tries to make it good for Gabe, _be_ good for him, and when Gabe gasps, Tyson marks down the angle and does it over and over again, until Gabe is panting harshly, his fingers a vice grip around Tyson’s.

Tyson can feel so much, now, through the bond, and it’s like an endless loop through his head, drained and full at once. It’s Gabe’s thoughts in his head and Gabe’s feelings bleeding out of his ears, and just - Gabe. Tyson closes his eyes against the onslaught of it all and drags his hands up Gabe’s sides, to his ribs. Digs his fingers in there and wonders how long he can keep this up.

Not too long, it turns out. Gabe pushes his face into Tyson’s neck, and drags his teeth over the sensitive skin there. He’s always careful not to leave any lasting marks but the pierce of his teeth does it for Tyson, has him breathing out unsteadily as he tries to keep it together.

He reaches a hand between them to wrap around Gabe, because he wants Gabe to come first, this time, and starts jerking him off, probably too hard and shaky. Gabe doesn’t need much though; he thrusts into Tyson’s hand and works himself back on Tyson’s dick, and then he’s shaking, coming in spurts across Tyson’s hand and his stomach. Tyson works him through it and then he lets go, grips Gabe’s hips instead and thrusts up into him, and just a handful of times is enough.

He feels drained, after, his ears filled with white noise instead of Gabe, and it takes him a second to get it together. Once he opens his eyes again, Gabe is still on top of him, his face still tucked under Tyson’s chin. His hair tickles, a little, so Tyson blows it out of his face and carefully wraps his arms around him, feels Gabe’s back rise and fall under his forearms.

They probably can’t sleep like that, much to Tyson’s dismay, but Tyson can drink it in, for now.

+

Tyson thought a win would be enough to turn their luck around, but they end up losing five in a row, sometimes scoreless, other times in plain embarrassing fashion. After their fifth straight loss, Gabe announces a team outing under the pretense of bonding. A few guys beg off coming, but the ones that show don’t bond as much as get drunk, Tyson himself included. He was a -2 for the night, which isn’t awful but isn’t great either, so he orders a Mudslide and revels in it, ignoring exactly all of the insults thrown his way for his drink choice.

The Mudslide hits Tyson pretty hard, though, so Gabe - who is significantly less drunk on vodka and ice cream - has to half help him up the stairs later, after they get home.

“I don’t get why you do this to yourself,” he grumbles but there’s no heat behind it. “You know you can’t handle that much vodka with sugar.”

“How do you know?” Tyson half-mumbles, half-accuses but mostly accuses. They’re reached the top of the stairs now, and Gabe guides Tyson down the hall to the bedroom.

“I’m literally carrying your ass to bed,” Gabe reasons, which is a lie - big, fat lie, at least as big as Gabe’s head. Tyson tells Gabe this, only to get a huff in response.

“Buddy, you’re so drunk.” Gabe shakes his head. He walks Tyson to the bed and sits him down on it before kneeling down to help Tyson with his shoes.

Tyson wants to be mad about the insult to his sobriety, but Gabe is being pretty nice to him, and also Gabe might have a point, so Tyson graciously lets it go. “Thanks, man,” he says instead, patting Gabe awkwardly on the head. “You're the best,” he goes on, more fond than he means to let on, and promptly shuts his mouth.

Gabe looks up at him, and even in the dim lighting of Tyson’s bedroom he looks good. “So drunk,” he says again, and Tyson lets out a relieved breath, because this at least is familiar ground.

+

Tyson wakes up with a pounding in his ears and the taste of a dead fish in his mouth. Last night was incredibly ill-advised. He stumbles his way to the bathroom and brushes his teeth, splashes some water on his face before giving up and stepping under the shower.

He feels marginally more human after that, but more importantly, he feels brave enough to make his way down the stairs and into the kitchen, where he can hear Gabe puttering around. Tyson is trying for a stealth entry, but he bangs his toe into the kitchen table leg once there, so that pretty much goes out the window. Gabe glances over his shoulder at the sound, and he looks suspiciously a lot like he might want to laugh at Tyson. His lips twitch, and his eyes are bright, but he doesn’t, so at least part of Tyson’s dignity stays intact.

The same part Tyson pretty much purges when he whines loudly as he sinks down onto the chair, but whatever, Tyson was never one to put too much stock into things like self-respect. “I feel like death,” he mumbles, resting his forehead on the table.

“You look like it,” Gabe snorts. He’s cracks an egg on the side of the counter, then another one, starts frying them. Tyson stomach makes strange sounds, like it can’t decide if it’s hungry or if it wants to be sick. “I still don’t get why you get it when you know you can’t take it,” Gabe goes on.

Tyson makes another pitiful whine. “It tastes so good while I’m having it though,” he argues.

Gabe laughs, this loud, bright thing, and it kind of hurts Tyson’s brain but it sort feels like music too. “Of course,” he says.

It still sounds like he’s making fun of Tyson, but Tyson head hurts too much to argue with him over this. He closes his eyes for a moment, just to rest them, and the next thing he knows Gabe’s hand is on the back of his neck, and there’s a plate of eggs and bacon next to his head.

“Hey,” Gabe is saying, “Eat this so we can leave.”

Tyson’s brain is still a little sluggish, so he complies for a minute before the words register and he mumbles, “Go where?”

Gabe bites his lips like he wants to smile. Tyson hates jokes he’s not in on. “You’ll see,” Gabe says, which sounds just ominous in Tyson’s book.

Still, he eats, because he wants something to soak the hangover up. Gabe sends him to get dressed after, to which Tyson cooperates a great deal less but eventually goes, and then they’re out the door, Tyson shooting Gabe glances like Gabe’s face is going to tell him where they’re going.

Gabe’s face doesn’t, but when they stop in front of a yard overflowing with Christmas trees, that does. With everything else going on - by which he means their horrendous record and his parents’ visit - Tyson had sort of forgotten about Christmas.

“Dude, no way,” he says now, and he can’t keep the excitement out of his voice.

“Thought this would be good to take our minds off everything,” Gabe says, and Tyson isn’t sure what he means, if it’s the bond or their record or something else entirely, but he doesn’t think too hard on it.

Instead he follows Gabe through row after row of Christmas trees, until they finally find something that they both like. It’s too big, probably, and it’s gonna take so much time to decorate, but it’s tall and green and fluffy, and Tyson thinks it’s going to look good in th - the living room.

Tyson has to sign to get it delivered because they can’t load in on Gabe’s car, and then the two of them drive by Gabe’s house to pick up his Christmas ornaments, since Tyson doubts his are going to be enough.

It turns out, after the tree gets delivered, that it does take a ridiculously long time to decorate all of it. Tyson’s arms hurt by the time they’re done, and he needs something to eat, like, yesterday. Gabe laughs when Tyson tells him this, and he coos at him unhelpfully, asking if Tyson wants him to massage his arms. Tyson does, but he’s not about to outright admit that, so he flips Gabe off and grabs his phone to order lunch.

They eat at the table, this time, and then move to the couch to look at all their hard work all lit up. Gabe curls his arm around Tyson’s shoulder at some point, and Tyson leans into it. He can feel Gabe’s contentment, through the bond, and wonders how much of that is really Gabe and how much is bond aftereffects.

The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Tyson thinks Gabe can tell, through the bond, because he turns and gives Tyson a look, worried. “Everything okay?” he asks, turning his body towards Tyson.

Tyson smiles, and leans in to kiss Gabe’s neck. “Yeah,” he says. “Everything’s good.”

Gabe smiles back and kisses Tyson’s cheek in turn, then his mouth, and Tyson kisses back until they basically end up making out on the couch. The Christmas tree is lit up next them and it feels so - it feels good, feels like home, and Tyson aches for more, aches for it to be _real_.

They stay like that for the longest time, until it's time for Zoeys’ walk, and then gabe pulls back and kisses Tyson’s nose, asks him if he wants to come with. Tyson looks at him and feels a deep sense of longing, an uncomfortable curl in his gut that leaves his stomach tied up in knots.

“It’s good,” Tyson finds himself saying, mind racing. “I’ll just stay here and clean up.” he nods towards the leftover Christmas ornaments boxes, and it sounds believable.

“I can help you with that,” Gabe argues.

“It’s fine, I can do it,” Tyson says.

Gabe seems to take that with a grain of salt, but Zoey chooses that moment to come up to them and bark, demanding to be walked, so Gabe has no choice but to let it go.

After Gabe’s gone, Tyson runs a hand through his hair and calls Nate, asks him if it’s alright to come by. Nate sounds worried, possibly at the way Tyson’s voice shakes, but he says he’ll be waiting for him.

Tyson leaves a note for Gabe on the fridge, a simple _going to Nate’s_ , and flees his own house. The smell in the car feels wrong after how used to he’s gotten of driving around with Gabe in the other seat, but Tyson purposefully doesn’t dwell on that part. He rolls down the windows, even though it’s December and it’s freezing, but he’d rather be cold than not smell right.

Nate opens the door as soon as Tyson pulls up on the driveway, so he must have been waiting by the window. He hugs Tyson, once Tyson walks up to him, and it’s not that they don’t generally hug but Tyson supposes this means he must look worse than he thought. He slumps into it and breathes in Nate’s scent, comforting and smooth and engraved into Tyson’s head as _familiar_.

“Dude, you look terrible,” Nate says after they pull back. He doesn’t wait for Tyson to defend his honor, just drags him inside and sits him down at the kitchen table, where the air still smells like food, something fried. He gets Tyson a bottle of water and doesn’t ask, just waits him out.

“Gabe took me Christmas tree shopping today,” Tyson says eventually.

Nate gives him a look, like he’s not following, and Tyson had forgotten, for a moment, that the Christmas tree shopping doesn’t explain everything. “Okay,” Nate says, draws it out. “Were the trees ugly or something?” he chuckles awkwardly.

Tyson laughs half-heartedly. “The trees were fine. We found a really fluffy one,” he says. Nate nods solemnly. “Gabe is the problem,” Tyson admits.

Nate squints. “Did he do something?” he asks, and it sounds kind of threatening.

“We - ” Tyson cuts himself off. Gabe and he aren’t close together right now, but Tyson can still feel him, feel the inkling of happiness in his head, his chest, too, feel how it warms him up better than Nate’s heated flooring.

He starts over. “This was supposed to be a six month thing, you know. Just wait until the bond settles and then break it, simple as that,” he says. Nate is quiet, listening carefully. “And now, he took me Christmas tree shopping, and he made dinner for my parents, and he’s just so thoughtful, and I - ” he stops, abruptly, the words too big for his mouth. He wonders if Gabe can feel his discomfort and hopes not.

“You have it bad,” Nate fills in for him.

“I have it bad,” Tyson agrees. He thinks about it, then says, “Jesus, I have it so bad.”

Nate looks at him for a minute, lips pursed, and Tyson wonders if he’s trying to come up with something to say. Then Nate gets up, starts rummaging through his junk food drawer and comes up with a box of cookies. Nate moves to the freezer and takes out a carton of ice-cream, still sealed, and presents both to Tyson.

“Bringing out the big guns, huh?” Tyson mumbles, but he takes the ice-cream and the cookies and he could kiss Nate, honestly.

Ntae shrugs and gets him a spoon. He watches Tyson break a couple of cookies into the ice-cream and doesn’t even comment like Gabe would. Tyson isn't sure which he prefers.

“Have you thought about telling him?” Nate asks, when Tyson’s a few bites into his pity-cream.

Tyson swallows carefully and shakes his head, because what good would that even do. He tells Nate as much.

“You could get it off your chest?” Nate tries, but it sounds unconvincing. “And you never know, maybe he feels the same way about you.”

Tyson snorts so hard he chokes on his ice cream. “Jesus,” he says, wiping his mouth with a paper towel. “I don’t think so,” he says. Nate looks like he’s about to argue, so Tyson keeps going. “Whatever Gabe feels right now, it’s just the bond,” he says, because he has not doubt, Gabe feels _something_. Tyson just doesn’t think that’s him.

“You can’t know that,” Nate argues. He looks a little offended, honestly, and Tyson doesn’t know what to do with that.

“He didn’t sign up to be bonded to me, Nate,” Tyson goes on, which takes some of the wind out of Nate’s sails.

“You didn’t either,” Nate says carefully.

Tyson shrugs. He takes another bite of pity-cream with cookies. “Yeah, but that’s different,” he says, because how else to explain it. He thinks this is worse for Gabe than it is for Tyson, because whatever Tyson feels, he still felt it before the bond, to a degree; it’s just that's it’s worse now.

“I still think you should talk to him,” Nate says.

Tyson, not for the first time, tries to imagine how that would go. There’s only two scenarios, the way he sees it. Either Gabe will look at him with thinly veiled pity and try to let him down gently, or he’ll jump into Tyson’s arms and reciprocate feelings that aren’t genuine. Tyson thinks option number one would be best, no matter how humiliated the exchange will leave him.

He also can admit Nate is right.

“I should.” he sighs, shoving more pity-cream into his mouth. “Fuck,” he says. “This is such a mess.”

Nate puts a hand on Tyson’s shoulder and squeezes tightly.

+

Tyson’s got two messages on his phone from Gabe, asking if everything is alright and when is he coming back. He doesn’t respond, figures he’ll be home soon enough. He drives with the windows down and white noise in his head, and doesn’t think about anything too hard, too paranoid about Gabe feeling it.

Gabe is on the couch, when Tyson makes it through the door, and Zoey is laying by his feet, and they both look so good there. Tyson shakes his head; he needs to stop thinking like that.

“Hey.” Gabe looks over the back of the couch. He smiles at Tyson, and Tyson’s stomach feels so tight.

“Hey,” Tyson says back, mouth dry. He toes off his shoes and makes his way to the couch in small steps, as if prolonging this is going to alter the end result. “How was the dog park?”

Gabe laughs. Tyson didn’t sit too close to him, but Gabe spreads his arm along the back of the couch now, and his fingers almost touch Tyson’s shoulder. “It was good,” he says. “Zoey saw some of her friends.”

Tyson nods. “That’s good,” he says uselessly.

“Did you get my messages?” Gabe asks, and he’s frowning a little bit now.

“Yeah, I was just in the car by the time I saw them, so.” Tyson shrugs. “Figured I’d come straight here,” he says.

Gabe is giving him a look, and Tyson turns away from it.

“I kind of wanted to talk to you about something,” Gabe says after a moment, and that makes Tyson look at him again. The words feel like lead, settling in his stomach, and Gabe’s got this determined look on his face, so familiar.

“Gabe,” Tyson tries, but it’s weak, and Tyson doesn’t even want to know what will follow this.

“It’s nothing bad, I promise,” Gabe says, misinterpreting Tyson’s dread. Tyson doesn’t try to correct him.

“I just - I know it’s only been a month,” Gabe starts. “I know that. But it’s - I’ve bonded before.” He pauses, and it feels heavy, so heavy between them, barely leaving any room for Tyson to breathe. “And it’s different now,” Gabe finishes.

Tyson stares at him. He knows Gabe doesn’t mean this - can’t mean this. This is just the bond talking, making him have feelings that aren’t really his own, but Tyson heart still beats in his throat, stupidly naive and hopeful, and Tyson squashes it down. “Gabe,” he tries again, doesn’t know what to follow it up with.

“I don’t mean to pile this up on you,” Gabe says. He sounds nervous and he feels it too, and Tyson wishes he could reach out and comfort him, tell Gabe that he doesn’t need to be nervous around him, but that would mostly counterproductive. “I just - I thought you should know.”

Tyson - he was so stupid. He thinks back to it now, back to the first time they slept together, and comes up with eight hundred ways that could have gone differently. Gone better, probably, gone in a way that didn’t lead them here, Tyson with his heart pounding away and Gabe with his stomach tied up in knots that Tyson can feel.

“You don’t mean that,” Tyson says, and the words hurt to get out, this tightness in his chest, an ache at his temples. When he gets the courage to look at Gabe again, Gabe is staring at him, confused and maybe a little hurt. “You don’t mean that,” Tyson says again, and, surprisingly, the words aren’t any easier the second time around.

Gabe keeps looking at him, and then he blinks at one point and shakes his head. “What?” he says.

Gabe is quiet. Then Tyson gets a whole bunch of things through the bond. Shock, he thinks is the first; crushing disappointment coming a close second before Gabe shuts off completely and Tyson is left with white noise.

“That’s just - it’s just bond stuff,” Tyson spits out. “It’s not real. None of it is.”

“How can you - what are you even on about?” Gabe asks, and he sounds legitimately upset now, rid of all confusion. “How can you say that?” he goes on.

Tyson opens his mouth to try and reason with him and Gabe just jumps off the couch, starts pacing in the living room. Zoey takes notice and lifts her head, her eyes trailing Gabe. “Gabe,” Tyson tries. “You - you have to be able to see it,” he says.

“See what?” Gabe asks. His eyes are wide and a little desperate, hands twitching by his sides. “Tyson, I - ”

“Did you even have feelings for me before the bond?” Tyson blurts out, because that’s what it all comes down to. Tyson wanted Gabe before they got together, and he walked into this on uneven ground.

The question shuts Gabe up pretty efficiently. He closes his mouth and straightens, and Tyson closes his eyes because he never really wanted to know the answer to that one but it’s pretty obvious now.

“Tyson,” Gabe says, and he sounds - Tyson doesn’t want to put a name to it.

“And that’s okay!” Tyson says quickly, talking mostly over Gabe. “But you can’t just - it’s just the bond,” he finishes quietly.

“It’s not,” Gabe says, stubborn like he gets sometimes.

“Then tell me,” Tyson says, too challenging for his own good. “Did you have feelings before we bonded?”

Gabe is quiet for too long. “I liked you,” he finally says, but it’s weak, and it’s not even what Tyson asked in the first place.

“Not what I asked,” Tyson stands his ground.

“Tys,” Gabe starts, and Tyson hates that, he hates what it does to him. “That doesn’t matter to me,” he says.

Tyson swallows. “It matters to me,” he says quietly.

Gabe seems to deflate at that, seems to abruptly run out of things to say.

There’s a long moment of just nothing, and then Gabe tries again. “Okay,” he says. It sounds vaguely unconvinced. “What does that mean?” he asks hesitantly.

“I - I just think we need some to spend some time separately, right now,” Tyson says weakly. His eyes pinch, at the white noise and the sudden awkwardness between them, and he’d really like to be alone.

Tyson doesn’t know how to do white noise, not like Gabe does. He’s never bonded before and no one ever taught him. He thinks that’s why Gabe’s hand settles on his shoulder, because Gabe can feel all that Tyson’s feeling through the bond. It’s a kind gesture, but mostly it makes Tyson feel raw on the inside on top of everything else, and he shifts away.

“Tys,” Gabe says.

“I can stay at Nate’s,” Tyson blurts out. He gets up and flees the room, ignores Gabe calling after him. His eyes pinch even sharper now, but he pushes the feeling to the back of his mind and grabs his keys, heading for the car. He has to sit there with the heat on for a solid five minutes because his hands shake too hard. He thinks Gabe may be watching from the window but doesn’t turn to check.

Nate looks surprised for about three seconds after he opens the door, and then he pulls it together and urges Tyson inside for the second time that afternoon. He doesn’t even ask Tyson what happened, just brings out the ice cream and the cookies and turns on Netflix.

Tyson can feel Gabe’s white noise banging at the walls of his head, and he wonders how he’s going to make it through another four and a half months of this. With difficulty, probably, is the answer.

Tyson doesn’t cry into the ice cream because that’d be sad, but it’s a close thing.

+

Tyson wakes up, and for the first time in a long while, Gabe isn’t next to him and he’s not in Tyson’s head either. He panics, for a long moment, this hot thing bubbling up in his chest, making his heart rate spike, but then he focuses and he can still make out the white noise of everything that Gabe isn’t letting through.

Tyson sighs and rolls over onto his back, throwing an arm over his face, and it is, overall, a great way to wake up.

Nate has the decency to wait until Tyson’s got two sips of coffee into him before asking him what happened. Tyson stalls for as long as he can under the pretense of still waking up, but then Nate jabs him between the ribs and he has to pretty much give in.

“He thinks he wants this,” he says with a shrug, because that pretty much sums it up.

Nate gives him a look. “Jesus, I had the talk with Gabe, I should have had it with you,” Nate says inexplicably. “I said talk to him,” he goes on, slowly. “I didn’t say go ahead and assume his feelings for him.”

“I’m not assuming anything!” Tyson lets out.

“From where I’m standing - ”

“I could feel it, okay?” Tyson burst out, effectively shutting Nate up. It’s too quiet between them, then, and Tyson takes a breath. “I could feel his regret,” he goes on, quiet. “When we first bonded, it was the only thing I could feel. And that doesn’t just go away.”

Nate looks at him like he wants to say something. He also looks at Tyson like maybe he feels a little bit bad for him. Tyson thinks the latter edges out the former because Nate stays quiet.

“Okay,” he says finally. Then, more quiet, “I’m sorry. I really wanted this to work out for you.”

Tyson shrugs, and it _hurts_ , because he wanted it to work out too. “Sometimes it just doesn’t,” he says, and thinks of Gabe’s previous bonds, how they fell apart.

+

It’s not awkward or anything, when they see each other later at practice. It’s just - Gabe doesn’t talk to Tyson, and Tyson returns the favor. Fuck, Tyson doesn’t even look at him, except for when Gabe starts laughing at one of EJ’s jokes, and then Tyson has to look, has to suffer through the envy of watching when only yesterday he got to touch and see and _feel_.

They guys probably don’t notice anything. This becomes particularly obvious when Picks walks up to Tyson at some point and asks him if he and Gabe have any plans for Christmas. Tyson gets to watch Nate awkwardly wave Picks off then, has to wait for the ten seconds it takes Picks to get it and then nod through Picks trying to patch things up, confusedly looking between Nate and Tyson like one or both of them grew a second head.

“Anyway,” he says finally, a little frantic. “Hope you guys have fun.”

Tyson musters up a smile and nods. “Thanks, man.”

Maybe in that sense it is awkward.

+

As much as Tyson would like to avoid it, he does have to face Gabe again. He left in a haste last night, and he actually needs to pack for Christmas, and to do that, he really should go by the house. He wonders if he should call first or something, or if that’s just going to make everything more awkward.

In the end he settles on just driving by, but when he gets there none of the lights are on and Gabe’s car is missing from the driveway. Tyson gets this sinking feeling in his stomach, which is pretty much confirmed when he opens the door to find the house empty.

Still, he calls out, “Gabe?” halfheartedly, only to get no response from either Gabe or Zoey.

Tyson’s stomach abruptly sinks. He’s not sure what he expected but this surely wasn’t it. He tries to focus on the bond, can feel it stretch over the distance between he and Gabe, but that’s about it. The rest is all white noise, jumbled together and ringing in his ears.

Tyson pushes it all away and packs.

+

He’s in a sour mood during the holidays. Tyson will insist that it’s not entirely his fault. He misses Gabe, yes, but also his head hurts, this pounding thing that reminds him of the first day Gabe and he bonded. Tyson spends a lot of time worrying about it and the rest of the time wondering if it’s the same for Gabe. He thinks about texting him and asking, but that wouldn't be fair. He’s the one who shot Gabe down, bizarrely, and he can’t go back on that.

As it is, he spends most of the holidays pretty miserable, avoiding his mom’s gentle prodding and his dad’s not-so-subtle hints about Tyson being able to tell him things, and instead texting with Nate, who dutifully listens to Tyson complain too much and make too many self-deprecating jokes.

+

Incredibly, the misery doesn’t disappear after Christmas break. The headaches do, because he and Gabe are back in close vicinity, but Tyson still can’t talk to Gabe, and worse than anything, it feels like he's lost a friend, not just a bondmate. He thinks that’s the worst part, the part that’s got him drowning his sorrows in ice cream every other night, because he and Gabe used to talk too much before and now Tyson can barely stand to look at him without thinking all the stuff he’s missing out on.

+

Tyson’s makes the worst decisions when he’s intoxicated. This a fact. Proof of said fact is how he lets himself get pushed next to Gabe in the booth the team has taken over to celebrate. First he notices Gabe’s scent, heavy and airy at the same time, making Tyson’s throat close up, almost. Gabe’s biceps are second but not to go unnoticed, much to Tyson’s dismay.

Third is the subtly freeze of Gabe’s body once Tyson settles down next to him, fourth is the shallow breath he takes through his nose before he starts breathing through his mouth. Fifth is the white noise in Tyson’s head trembling before it settles into a ringing again.

There’s no six, because Tyson starts downing shots right about then. He makes it to the third one before he has to get up to use the bathroom. Thankfully, he only has to lift a couple of people to get out of the booth and neither of them are Gabe, so Tyson is going to be counting that as a win. What he’s not going to be counting as a win is literally running into Gabe on the way out of the bathroom.

“Sorry,” Tyson says before he can really think about it.

Gabe smiles softly, and Tyson is all too familiar with that, fuck. He feels it like a punch to the gut, having that smile directed at him, and he’s almost short of breath. “It’s okay,” Gabe says easily. He’s looking at Tyson, and Tyson doesn’t even know what to do. Should he go, should he stay, should he say something else or just shut up.

In the end he settles for an awkward gesture with his hand pointing back to the table, a crooked step forward. He’s almost out of earshot when he heard Gabe blurt out, “You said you had a yard.”

It makes Tyson turn around, simply because of how strange it is. “Huh?” he asks, eloquent as ever.

Gabe ducks his head, looking away. “When you said you had a yard for Zoey,” he explains. “That’s when I started having feelings for you.”

Tyson, he - he doesn’t even know where to start, with that.

“I know you probably don’t wanna hear this,” Gabe goes on, and he has no idea how big of a lie that is. “But that’s when it started, for me.” His voice is loud enough to carry over the music but Tyson feels like he can barely hear him with all the ringing in his ears.

“So when you say this is the bond,” Gabe goes on, “It’s not,” he says.

Tyson’s heart beats in his throat, mouth dry all of a sudden. He tries to pull it together enough for a response but Gabe doesn’t stick around for one, just walks past Tyson and into the bathroom, like he didn’t just rocked Tyson’s entire world, and how is Tyson even supposed to function after this.

Tyson thinks about sticking around to wait for him, but what would he even say. What Gabe confessed, Tyson can barely fit it in his head. He thinks about it and it’s just like those first few days of the bond, where everything felt too big to squeeze into his head with Gabe’s presence there taking up space. It’s the same feeling now, only there’s white noise instead of Gabe, and Tyson’s thoughts are still too big to comprehend.

Tyson decides to leave, in the end. He shoots a hasty text off to Nate to tell him he’s going home and sets out to drive to Nate’s house but ends up in his own instead. He heads straight for his bedroom once there, then the closet, and looks at all the spaces where Gabe’s used to hang. He looks at all the naked hangers and shelves. Looks at the bed he and Gabe shared and face plants onto it because that thought is just depressing.

Tyson thinks about Gabe’s words, lets them ring in his ears. “That’s when I started having feelings for you,” and “You probably don’t wanna hear this,” and how could Tyson let Gabe think that. He thinks back to the last talk they had before Gabe moved out, and Tyson is so sure his feelings had been obvious back then. He remembers Gabe’s hand on his shoulder, and he thought Gabe knew. Tyson thought Gabe knew all along; how could he not, with the way Tyson looks at him.

Tyson thinks back to the day he asked Gabe to move in with him, to the _warmth_ he felt coming through the bond when he suggested he had a yard Zoey could enjoy, and he decides he’s sometimes too stubborn for his own good.

Tyson groans and rolls over. “I know you probably don’t wanna hear this,” he hears, and sets about making this right.

+

The next morning, Tyson wakes up with a purpose - that being apologizing to Gabe. Because that’s the biggest thing, he thinks, how he made Gabe feel like his feelings weren’t genuine, like Tyson didn’t feel the same way.

They have practice, and Tyson knows what time Gabe usually leaves his house to get to the rink, so he’s pretty lucky in that aspect and catches him in time. Gabe buzzes his up, but he still confused to find Tyson standing at his doorstep.

“Hey,” Tyson says, a little awkward, too eager to get started. “Can I come in?”

The three seconds that pass before Gabe says, “Sure,” are probably some of the longest of Tyson’s life. He pushes through the them though, because this is - it’s Gabe, and Tyson didn’t think he stood a chance before, but he thinks _maybe_ , now, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try his best.

“What’s up?” Gabe asks. He crosses his arms over his chest, and doesn’t make any move to follow Tyson deeper into the condo, so Tyson guesses the hallway is where it’s at.

“I wanted - ” Tyson starts, then starts over, because as much as he’s practiced this, it’s still hard to get it out. “What you said last night,” he says. “It made me think.”

Gabe just stands there, stiff, looking at Tyson like he’s not at all impressed. Tyson, knowing what he does, isn’t surprised. He tries to focus on the bond, but it’s the same white noise as before, and that does take some of the wind out of his sails.

“I wanted to apologize,” Tyson says finally, in one long breath. “I - I didn’t think you were for real, when you said you had feelings for me, and I was wrong to assume that.” It sounds practiced because it is, and Tyson can’t do much about that.

Gabe’s eyes don’t grow wide or anything, and his arms don’t fall to his sides. He just keeps standing there like he’s waiting for something, so Tyson decides to give it to him. He focuses on the bond, on the white noise, and tries to push through it, push at Gabe all that he’s feeling, all the fondness and the warmth and everything else that Gabe conjures up in him. It’s not easy, to go from guarding everything so well to giving it freely away, but Tyson thinks Gabe deserves this from him, after everything.

Tyson gets to watch Gabe’s reaction, too, as Gabe swallows, fingers twitching around his biceps. He blinks, and then Tyson gets a wave of a bunch of stuff through the bond, ranging from anger to sadness to happiness to relief. He doesn’t know what to focus on, so he just lets it wash over him, and Gabe’s sadness hurts so much but his happiness feels too good, and Tyson’s eyes are pinching.

“Tyson,” Gabe says, and his eyes really are wide now, his lips parted. He’s looking at Tyson like he’s seeing him for the first time but surely -

“You didn’t know,” Tyson says, the realization just now dawning on him. “How could you not - ”

“I thought,” Gabe cuts him off. “All the noise - all you’ve been giving me is so much noise,” he says.

“That wasn’t me,” Tyson says. “That was you, I couldn't get anything through the bond.”

Gabe looks at him for a moment and then he shakes his head. “It wasn't me, Tyson,” he says gently.

Tyson - he feels like his worlds is spinning, right now. “Are you sure?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer.

Gabe nods slowly. “Pretty sure,” he says.

“I had no idea I was doing it,” Tyson says, because it suddenly feels pertinent, that Gabe knows this. “Gabe - ” Tyson centers on the bond again, tries to shove his honesty at Gabe.

“No, I know,” Gabe says quickly. “I believe you.”

There’s a long moment of nothing, just them staring at each other, and then Tysons speaks up, because the bond doesn’t magically fix everything, it can’t. “I’m still sorry,” he says.

Gabe looks at him a little shyly for probably the first time in his entire life but also like he isn’t quite sure.

“I shouldn’t have - I shouldn't have shut you down like that,” Tyson says. “Or asked you to move out.”

“Why didn’t you,” Gabe stops to take a breath. “Why didn’t you believe me?” It sounds pent up, like he’s been wanting to ask this for a while.

Tyson looks away. “I didn’t think - you never signed up for this,” he says.

“Neither did you,” Gabe argues.

“Yeah, but - ” that’s different, Tyson almost says, but catches himself just short of it. That would just be bringing them back to the start. Gabe juts his chin out like he knows it. “I had feelings for you before we - before we slept together. I think that's why the bond took,” Tyson admits, and it’s difficult. It’s hard to believe Gabe won’t blame him now that he knows.

Gabe doesn’t though. “I told you,” he says, and he sounds tired. “This just happens to me.”

“No, I know that,” Tyson says. “I think maybe it was a little bit of both?” he tries.

Gabe is quiet and Tyson thinks he’s hit the spot.

“I just didn’t want you to hate me,” he goes on, and admitting that is even tougher.

“Tys,” Gabe says. Tyson isn't looking at him but he can feel Gabe’s eyes on him. “I would never,” Gabe says now.

“You say that now…” Tyson trails off.

“Tyson,” Gabe says again. “I could never hate you,” he goes on, and then he’s standing in front of Tyson, and then the two of them are so close, Tyson thinks he can feel Gabe’s body heat. He slowly lifts his gaze to meet Gabe’s, and Gabe just looks so serious, like he needs for Tyson to get this bit.

“I could never hate you,” he say for the third time, and it sinks in for Tyson right then, better than it could have through any bond, how deeply Gabe cares, cares about him.

“That’s good to know,” he says, weak and shaky and leaning up a little and then Gabe is meeting him the rest of the way and their lips are touching. Fireworks don’t go off or anything, but it’s close, for Tyson.

Tyson feels Gabe against him, and he thinks it’s pretty close for Gabe, too.

+

The second time they move in together, Tyson doesn’t make anyone carry Gabe’s boxes. He carries them himself, then demands Gabe takes him out to dinner to make up for all of Tyson’s hard labor.

“You carried two boxes,” Gabe argues, but he’s laughing.

“Exactly,” Tyson points out.

He looks at Gabe and touches the claiming bite on his shoulder, hidden under his shirt. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, not until Gabe is behind him, his arms around Tyson’s waist, his nose in Tyson’s neck. Gabe breathes, then murmurs something that sounds like, “So sweet,” and Tyson laughs, can’t even fight it.

Gabe still takes up so much space in Tyson’s head, is the thing, space that Tyson wasn’t aware was even there, but that can’t even compare to the room he takes up in Tyson’s heart.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :))
> 
> i made a lot of this up, but tyson does have a thing for gabe's huge head.
> 
> i also have a [tumblr](http://tboobs.tumblr.com/)!


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